HTLJ: Betrayed
by Arianna18
Summary: A series of incidences convinces Iolaus that Hercules no longer cares about him and he strikes out on his own.


For a split second, he couldn't take it in. And, then, he felt like he'd just been kicked in the gut. He pulled back behind a tree, and tried to remember how to breathe. Gods...they were only half dressed, leaning upon one another... kissing. Iolaus pressed his eyes closed, hoping to blot out the memory, but it was etched with painful clarity in his mind. Herc and Xena. Together. Stunned, feeling sick, he couldn't think about it, but he knew he had to walk in as if nothing was wrong, as if the two of them together was the most natural thing in the world. He had to swallow the bile that burned in the back of his throat, and the hurt, or he'd only make a fool of himself.

Taking a deep breath, Iolaus coughed loudly to let them know he was coming, and walked as jauntily as he could manage into the camp. They'd pulled apart, looking uncomfortable, like kids who'd just been caught. He tried to smile, as if everything was perfectly normal, but found he couldn't hold it, and he had to turn away from them, dropping to one knee by the fire, tossing in a few sticks, to gain the time to hold himself together. This wasn't going to work. He had to get away. Saying something about checking the perimeter, Iolaus stood, and without looking at them again, he jogged out of the camp.

As soon as he was out of sight, he leaned onto a tree, one hand over his mouth as he again swallowed hard, this time to dislodge the lump that had risen to his throat. He had to blink hard, desperate not to give way to tears, wondering why it was that he felt as if his heart had just been ripped from his chest.

'She's changed,' Herc had said. Xena wasn't the driven, brutal killer that she had been when she'd seduced him a year ago, hoping to turn him against Hercules, so that he would try to kill his best friend, or be killed by Herc. Either way, Xena had wanted to destroy the both of them. But, she had changed...and, having changed, did she look again at the man who had fallen so helplessly in love with her? No. Evidently not. He was good enough to deceive, good enough to despise...but not good enough to love.

It made Iolaus sick to know it mattered to him. He'd felt so guilty after he'd fought with Hercules, and still did feel that he'd betrayed their lifelong friendship. He'd despised himself for his weakness, for having been a fool...for having believed she loved him. He hated knowing that he'd loved her, but he had, with his whole heart. He'd been blind. And he'd never felt such a sense of betrayal in his life. One moment, she was his lover, and the next she wanted him dead. It had brought back all of those buried feelings of worthlessness that he'd felt for all those years his father had abused him. After all, if someone who was supposed to love you in fact hated you, and hurt you deliberately, tried to destroy you, it had to mean you were worthless, didn't it? It had taken him a long, long time to find some measure of self respect...and she'd ripped it away in an instant.

He'd learned to hate her, and had warned Hercules she couldn't be trusted the moment he'd realized that Herc had joined forces with her, if only temporarily. So, how could he have almost hoped that, having changed, she might remember what he had thought they'd once had...might want to love him in earnest? But, he had seen that she had changed. She'd even saved his life...the only person other than Herc who ever had. And, much to his self disgust, he'd found himself remembering what it had been like to be with her, and wondering if, maybe....

But, he should have known better. Of course it would be Hercules who would capture her heart, who would make her want to be better than she'd been. Hadn't Herc had just about the same effect on him over the years, making him want to be the hero Hercules seemed to see whenever the demigod looked at him?

Gods...but, Herc had known what she'd done to him, how badly she'd hurt him. Knowing that, how could Hercules be with her now? Didn't it matter that she'd almost destroyed his best friend? That she'd tried to get them to kill one another? Could it all be forgiven, and forgotten, so easily?

Apparently so.

Iolaus wrapped both arms around his body as he leaned against the tree, taking deep breaths, forcing the feelings of betrayal, of aching hurt, down into his shredded heart, locking it away. His feelings were his problem, not theirs. Neither of them owed him anything. If he were half the man he wished he was, he'd be happy for his friend. Herc hadn't found anyone, been with anyone, since Deianeara had died. And, gods knew, Hercules deserved love. Xena was all fire and passion, mystery and danger, beauty and strength and it made sense that the two of them would feel the power of an irresistible attraction.

He should be happy for them. And, if he couldn't be happy, he had to at least pretend it didn't matter, didn't change anything. That it meant nothing to him.

But, gods, it hurt.

It was a long time before he could bring himself to go back to the camp, before he could trust himself to face them without betraying himself. At one point, he smiled sadly to himself as he looked up into the night sky, thinking that it hardly mattered if he did betray his feelings, the pain he felt...the two of them had betrayed him, so why shouldn't he make it unanimous? But, he had too much pride, and too much decency. If they knew how very much they'd hurt him, they'd feel badly about it, guilty about whatever joy they'd found in one another. And, he didn't want to do that to them. There was no point in all of them being miserable.

But, what would happen now? Would they want to travel together? Iolaus sagged in weary resignation, knowing he could have no part in that future. He'd be on his own, and he'd have to act as if he was happy about it. Feeling as if he were standing on the brink of a dark chasm, Iolaus tried to imagine how he'd walk away...and wondered where he'd go.

Finally, having wrapped the tattered shreds of his dignity around him, and armoured his heart with all the control he was capable of exerting upon himself, he turned, and headed back to the camp.

* * *

In the end, Xena had decided to set out on her own, believing that Hercules deserved better than her, and that she had no place in his life. Iolaus watched them say good-bye, finally turning his back and walking away to give them some measure of privacy. After Xena had ridden out, Herc watching her go with regret mingled with confusion in his eyes, Iolaus had turned back and joined him, the two of them heading out under the arch to the countryside beyond. Iolaus had asked him if he was alright, and he'd said he was, but it was pretty clear he didn't feel like talking right then, so Iolaus just paced along silently beside him.

Not that he felt any more like talking than Hercules did. He couldn't talk about Xena or what had happened between her and Hercules, and yet the reality of their relationship was like a tangible thing, walking along with the two of them, like some kind of spectre that was going to haunt the two friends for a long time. It was taking all he had not to confront Hercules with his sense of betrayal, not to rage about how he didn't seem to matter to Hercules, how it seemed as if his feelings were irrelevant to the man he considered his best friend. He wanted to demand to know how Hercules could have done this, could have found her attractive, no matter how much she'd changed, knowing what she'd done to him, knowing how he had felt about her.

But, he just plodded on silently, holding his control tight, telling himself that this was his problem to deal with. Telling himself to grow up.

Hercules watched Iolaus from the corner of his eye, knowing his friend had found his relationship with Xena awkward to say the least. Part of him wanted to talk to Iolaus about it, wanted to explain, but he quailed at the thought of such a discussion. After all, what could he say? 'Hey buddy, hope you don't mind, but I think she's incredible.' Somehow, given all that Xena meant to the two of them, given their history, Hercules figured it was probably better to just let it go. If they didn't talk about it, maybe they could pretend nothing was wrong between them. It was done, and he couldn't undo it...he wouldn't even if he could. Because he did think she was incredible.

But, it was no good. Iolaus found he just couldn't keep it all inside. It would eat at him, and they had to clear the air, even if it meant they yelled at each other about their respective pig-headed attitudes. If he and Hercules had headed in separate directions, maybe in time he'd have been able to bury it so deep he'd be able to pretend it had never happened. But walking along beside his friend, finding the silence heavy, knowing it would only continue, mute evidence of their discomfort with one another, Iolaus decided facing it was better than letting it come between them.

Turning toward his friend, not quite making eye contact, his face troubled, Iolaus began, "Herc, I..."

But, his words were cut off by the sudden scream of terror that pierced the air. Both their heads jerked up, listening to determine the direction, and then they were pelting up and over the hill in front of them. As soon as they crested the rise, they could see the travellers who had been attacked by a gang of bandits, and, in moments, they had hurled down the hill, bursting into the midst of the brigands. Dumping his pack, Iolaus leapt onto the back of one, elbowing him sharply at the base of his neck, and then rolled from his back as the outlaw collapsed to pivot, taking out another with a sharp kick.

Hercules had strong-armed one, dropping him as if he'd been pole-axed, and grabbed another to toss him into the trees on the other side of the road. Iolaus ducked under a swing, kicked his opponent, doubling him over, then used the bandit's back as a platform to support one arm as he kicked up and out with both legs, taking down a giant of a man who'd been bearing down upon him. Completing the move, he regained his feet on the other side of the doubled over bandit and brought both clasped hands down on the man's neck, dropping him to the ground. Hercules drove his elbows back into a man who had jumped him from behind, driving the wind from his lungs, then swivelled on his heel, and kicked his assailant into the field on the hillside.

Their sudden appearance distracted the rest of the brutes from their erstwhile victims, a merchant, his wife and two daughters, and Hercules and Iolaus soon found themselves back to back, fighting with more than a dozen bad guys. The odds being in their favour, six to one being hardly enough to work up a sweat, they were making short work of the bandits, when Hercules noticed a couple of them had broken off, and were dragging one of the young women toward the trees. Pitching the bandit in front of him over the wagon, Herc took off to rescue the girl from her attackers. Iolaus, fully occupied with a couple of thugs, didn't notice Herc had moved out of position.

It was the look of supreme satisfaction in the eyes of one of the men in front of him, as he flashed a look over Iolaus' shoulder, that warned him. Twisting quickly to the side, Iolaus whirled and kicked out at the second man in front of him, as the first was impaled by the spear that a silent assailant had lunged toward Iolaus' back. Completing his turn, he jumped into a double kick, dropping the guy who'd tried to ambush him. Alarmed, wondering if Herc had been hurt, Iolaus quickly scanned the area, and saw his buddy some distance away battling with two bandits, one of the young women cowering close by. Realizing what had happened, Iolaus turned back to finish off the guys in his immediate vicinity, while Hercules took care of the last two.

In moments, the battle was over and nineteen villains were sprawled unconscious in the dust. Iolaus tugged down his vest, and turned to make sure the travellers were all right as Hercules escorted the young woman back to her very relieved family.

"Thank you!" stammered the merchant, gingerly fingering a darkening bruise on his cheek, one eye already beginning to swell shut. "I thought they'd kill us all."

"They would have if you two hadn't've shown up," his wife continued, one hand over her heart, trying to contain the fear that still filled her. "We owe you our lives."

Herc shrugged, and Iolaus waved away the gratitude. "We're glad to help," Hercules said.

"Yeah," Iolaus affirmed with a warm smile as he turned to help one of the daughters up into the back of the wagon. "Really glad we were in the neighbourhood...they were a nasty lot."

The daughters smiled hesitantly at the two heroes, while Hercules checked out the merchant's injuries, assuring himself that they were nothing serious. "Will you folks be alright now?" he asked, as Iolaus helped the mother up onto the seat of the wagon, having already assisted the second daughter into the back.

"We'll be fine, now, thanks to you," the merchant assured him, as he turned to climb up beside his wife and gathered up the reins. "What will you do with them?"

Herc and Iolaus turned to look at the unconscious bandits, and then they looked at each other. "Tie them up?" Iolaus suggested, "And then tell the magistrate in the next town where to find them?"

Hercules nodded, but the merchant's wife chimed in, "We're heading to town now, and we'll be glad to tell the magistrate about this, and have him send out a patrol to round them up!"

"Great," Herc replied with a warm smile, "We'll tie 'em up and watch them until the patrol gets here."

The merchant nodded, flicked the reins and the wagon moved off along the road, the two young women in the back gazing back at the two heroes until the road curved and took them out of sight. Iolaus and Hercules stripped the unconscious bandits of their shirts, ripped the material into strips and used the cloth to bind their wrists. As they worked, Iolaus said, a little tentatively but unable to keep all trace of irritation out of his voice, "I guess I was too occupied to hear you warn me you weren't going to be at my back."

Herc looked up, a puzzled look on his face for a moment, until he remembered what had happened, and what Iolaus was talking about. "Oh, sorry," he said with a shrug, as he secured the bindings around the wrists of one of the bandits, "I saw two of them dragging one of the girls off toward the woods, and took off after them. But, you were doing fine...it wasn't a problem, was it?"

Iolaus looked past Hercules at the three bandits sprawled a little distance away, one with a spear rising from his chest. Herc followed his glance and frowned when Iolaus muttered, "It was a little close...."

"What happened?" the demigod asked sharply, turning back to face his friend.

Iolaus sighed, his head down as he tied off the restraints on yet another bandit. "The guy with the spear in him looked a little too pleased at something going on behind my back...I twisted out of the way, and he ended up as the one who was skewered."

Hercules felt a chill as he realized what had almost happened. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Iolaus just nodded as he turned to deal with another of their unconscious opponents. But, as he worked, he found himself getting angry. He was beginning to wonder if he was invisible or something...if Herc took him so much for granted that he hardly gave him a thought anymore. That had been too close...Hercules should have warned him, told him he was moving off.

Coming on top of the incident with Xena, Iolaus started to think that, maybe, he shouldn't trust Hercules quite as much as he was used to doing. His buddy sure didn't seem to be giving him much thought these days.

It was about an hour later that they heard the sound of horses coming down the road toward them from the direction of the nearby town. A few minutes later, half a dozen horsemen rounded the curve and shortly after, drew up in front of them. By that time, the bandits had regained consciousness, and were sitting in the dust, watching warily, wondering how such a simple ambush had gone so wrong. They could scarcely believe that it had only been two men who had taken them down...it had felt like an army.

"I'm Adamentes," the lead horseman said, as he swung down to face the two heroes. "Looks like you two have been busy."

"I'm Iolaus," said the blond warrior, as he shook the man's hand, then cocking his head toward his partner, he continued, "and that's Hercules."

At the sound of that renowned name, a low chorus of groans rose from the men on the ground. No wonder they had been taken so easily. Gods, what rotten luck.

Adamentes grinned as he shook Herc's hand, "Glad to meet you...and glad you were here to help Liartes and his family. This lot would have murdered them without a second thought. Thanks for standing guard over them until we got here."

"No problem," Hercules assured him, as he hauled a couple of the villains to their feet. Iolaus had already started to do the same, as had another of the riders.

Once they were all on their feet, slouching grudgingly, Adamentes mounted. "We'd be glad if the two of you would come back to town with us. It's getting late, and the least we can do is give you dinner and a room for the night, to thank you for your help today."

The two warriors nodded. "Sounds good," Iolaus replied, as they headed out, walking alongside of the bandits, keeping them in line, as they all made their way into the town.

* * *

The number of bandits in the apprehended gang far exceeded the limited capacity of the small cell in the back of the building that also provided quarters for the magistrate, as well as a large hall for hearings and public meetings. So, Adamentes led them to a small barn that was normally used as a warehouse, but which was conveniently empty at this time of year. Once the bandits were securely quartered, with guards posted around the stone building, Adamentes led the heroes across the good-sized settlement to the inn that also boasted the best food in town.

"Why don't you get settled, and I'll let the magistrate know that you're here. I'm sure he'll want to thank you personally for taking those ruffians out of circulation," Adamentes said after introducing them to the innkeeper.

Herc nodded, as he replied, "Fine. As soon as we've settled in, and cleaned up a bit, we'll be in the dining room."

The innkeeper, Meneas, was quite overwhelmed to have someone as famous as Hercules staying at his establishment. Accordingly, he spared no effort as he bustled about ensuring the heroes were satisfied with their rooms, and in providing water and towels for them to wash up before their meal. As usual, Iolaus found himself as the lesser known and almost invisible member of their two man team, but he found a measure of his old good-natured humour in his amusement at Herc's predictable discomfort with the fuss and frenzy his presence caused. Snickering, pretending he didn't notice the withering look Hercules shot him, Iolaus disappeared into the small room assigned to him, to dump his pack and sword, and to splash water over himself to remove the worst of the dust and sweat of the journey.

As he reflected back over the day, Iolaus found he was grateful to the bandits for having provided a distraction. Since the moment they'd first heard that terrified scream, there'd been no opportunity to talk privately about...well, about Herc's relationship with Xena, and the impact it had had on him. Maybe it was best if he did just let it go. Talking about it wouldn't likely help anyway. He set aside his earlier disquiet about Hercules forgetting to warn him his back was unguarded during the fight. Things had been happening fast, and he was sure it hadn't meant anything...there was no point in getting all paranoid just because Herc had fallen for Xena.

In his chamber across the hall, Hercules was equally grateful to the band of cutthroats for having given the two of them something to do which had restored them to some semblance of their normal routine and long-standing, easy comradeship. He had known Iolaus was about to broach the subject of Xena just as the scream had pierced the air, and he didn't see how talking about it was ever going to make anything better between them. If they put enough time and miles between them and the memory of what had occurred, maybe they could just let it be...something that had happened and was now over and done with.

If he was brutally honest with himself, Herc knew that at some level he felt very guilty about what had happened. He knew it was entirely inappropriate given how badly Xena had hurt Iolaus, but he also had to admit that the spark between them had been hot and irresistible. He'd been swept away by desire, something that he rarely allowed to happen, and couldn't really explain it to himself. It wasn't rational, it didn't make any sense, but he hadn't been able to turn away.

Somehow, Hercules really didn't think that Iolaus would want to hear any of that.

Less than half an hour later, Hercules rapped on Iolaus' door and the two friends headed downstairs to the dining area of the inn. Although they'd not taken long, the magistrate, Certes, was already there and waiting for them. Given that he represented yet another welcome distraction, both men were inordinately pleased to meet him and hastened to invite him to join them for dinner. When the flattered official agreed, and turned to lead them to the best table in the house, Herc glanced at Iolaus with a slightly quizzical look, and Iolaus gave him a wry, weary half smile, as they each signalled that they both knew very well what the other was doing. It was as close as either of them wanted to get to admitting there was unresolved business between them.

As they sat down, the magistrate hastened to assure them that they were guests of the town for as long as they chose to stay. "Those brigands you overcame today are part of a larger group that has been terrorizing the countryside around this town for months. We owe you a debt of gratitude," he explained, nodding absently to the server who placed a mug of ale in front of him.

"We appreciate the generosity," Hercules replied, pushing his own mug a little out of the way as he leaned his elbows on the table. "But...you say there are a lot more of them in the hills?"

Nodding, Certes frowned and sighed heavily as he replied, "That's right. We didn't have sufficient forces to move against them until now, but with the reduction of their numbers after today, our militia will be able to deal with them. Malthius and his band of cutthroats and thieves will finally get their due. I'll see that they spend the rest of their lives in the mines, assuming any of them surrender rather than go down fighting."

Iolaus leaned forward, elbows on the table, his head cocked questioningly and a slight frown on his face, as he asked, "Malthius? What do you know about him?"

Certes shrugged, and pulled on his lip before replying. "Well, not a great deal. He'd be in his mid-thirties, I suppose, average height, black hair going grey. Someone said he came from Thebes originally."

The demigod's gaze flashed to Iolaus, taking in his look of concern. "Do you know him, Iolaus?" he asked quietly.

Iolaus had been unconsciously biting his lip as he considered the magistrate's words, and now his eyes raised to Herc's as he nodded, "Yeah, I think I might." Iolaus leaned back in his chair and sighed a little, as he continued, "There was a Malthius on the streets in those days, and this guy would be the right age and the general description matches. If it's the same guy...." his voice tapered off, as he frowned, considering what to do about the situation.

"What?" Hercules encouraged, knowing there was more. The magistrate had straightened and was listening with a keen interest as he pulled apart a roll of bread from the basket the server had just put on the table. He didn't quite understand the blond warrior's reference to 'the streets', and was surprised that two such renowned heroes would know scum the likes of Malthius.

Iolaus rubbed his hand over his mouth as he thought the situation through. Finally, having decided what he wanted to do, he straightened, addressing his remarks to both Hercules and the magistrate, his voice firm and confident, assuming their agreement. "If it's the same guy, I owe him. More than once, he looked out for me and got me out of very tight situations. So, I'd like a chance to see if we can resolve this without further bloodshed."

"What do you have in mind?" Herc asked.

"Give me two days. I'll head into the hills and make contact with him, maybe give him the idea that I'd like to join his band of merry men. If I can, I'll persuade him to surrender peacefully...he didn't used to be a bad guy. He wasn't evil, you know...just, well, just desperate to survive like the rest of us were," Iolaus explained, with a quick, unconscious glance of gratitude up at the server who had just reached past him to put a jug of ale on the table.

Herc leaned back, a doubtful expression on his face, "That was a long time ago, Iolaus. If he's running an outlaw band the size of a small army, he's progressed from just trying to survive. And, even if you could persuade him to turn himself in, the men with him aren't likely to just go along with that idea. I doubt he'll thank you for trying to interfere...it could be dangerous."

"Maybe," Iolaus agreed, knowing his partner was right, "but, I have to try. If I can bring him in, the others will either kill one another off, vying for leadership, or just wander off, go their separate ways. But, if it looks hopeless, I'll slip away...the risks shouldn't be all that high. If they're all like the ones we took out today, they're not that good." Turning to the magistrate, Iolaus enquired, "Can you give me an idea of where to find him? And, would you agree to give me a couple of days to try to settle this without a fight?"

Certes studied the table for a moment, as he tapped his fingers upon it unconsciously while he thought about Iolaus' proposition. Finally, he looked up with a nod. "Yes, I can tell you the general area in which you can find him. If you can get him to surrender, well and good. But, if you can't, the information you bring back about his strength in arms and warriors would help us plan our raid on them. Another day or two won't make much difference."

Iolaus gave the magistrate a grateful smile. Although it was unlikely that he'd be successful, he was glad to have the chance to try. "Thanks. I'll head out right after dawn. If I can bring him in, I'll be back by sunset the next day...if I can't, I'll still be back, but alone. Okay?"

"Fine," agreed the magistrate as he turned his attention to the food the server had laid out in front of them...the specialty of the inn. Business was over, and he was hungry. He took another healthy swallow of his ale and dug into the hearty helping of wild boar stew.

During the meal, Iolaus got the magistrate to describe the direction to the place in the hills where he'd be likely to find Malthius and his gang. Once they'd finished eating, and the server had cleared away the bowls, Iolaus pushed back from the table as he turned to Certes, "Well, if you'll excuse me, I want to get an early start tomorrow, so I think I'll turn in."

Certes nodded, as he said, "Good luck with the outlaw."

"Thanks," Iolaus replied standing. His eyes didn't quite meet Hercules' as he wished them good night and turned to head out of the room.

"'Night," Hercules replied, a slight frown between his brows as he watched Iolaus walk away. His buddy was avoiding him, going up early to evade any chance of having to talk about the constraint between them. Unhappily, the demigod realized he was relieved.

"Hercules..." Certes started quietly, interrupting the hero's thoughts, his own mind uneasy as he asked, "I didn't fully understand everything that was said here tonight. Exactly how did your friend meet the outlaw, Malthius?"

With a shrug, knowing he was sharing no secrets, Hercules explained, "When he was a kid, Iolaus was homeless for a couple of years, living on the streets, doing whatever he had to do to survive. Malthius must have been one of the others in their gang, a little older, and from what Iolaus said, someone who looked out for him."

Certes frowned and bit his lip as he considered this information. "You're saying Iolaus was a thief?"

Herc nodded with little concern as he reached for his mug and took a swallow of ale, "Uh huh, and I have to say, some of his old skills still come in handy at times."

"I'm surprised you allow someone like that to travel with you," Certes reflected, with evident distaste.

Startled, the demigod looked at the magistrate, not sure he'd heard right. "Excuse me?"

"Well, someone like that, who's a criminal...how could you ever trust him?" Certes replied, knowing that he'd never be able to forgive anyone such a past.

Hercules' eyes narrowed, as he said, very carefully, very deliberately, "Let me be very clear. Iolaus is my best friend, has been for almost the whole of our lives. He is a decent, honourable man, a hero who risks his life on a regular basis to help other people...just as he's prepared to do tomorrow, for this town. I'm grateful to have him as my partner, and I trust him with my life."

Certes stared at him a moment, then looked away, his expression clouded. Hercules realized that he didn't want to alienate this man. If Iolaus got into trouble, if he didn't get back as planned, then Herc would be glad of all the help he could get to rescue Iolaus from the small army of outlaws. So, he decided to try to smooth the magistrate's concern with softer words. "Look," he said, drawing the magistrate's eyes back to his own. "Iolaus and I have faced a lot of dangers together. And, I have to admit, I've tried to discourage him from time to time, tried to get him to live his own life, somewhere safe, but Iolaus is determined to stick with me, no matter what dangers we encounter. You don't know my friend...he can be very stubborn when he wants to be. And, I'm lucky that he's so stubborn...I've needed his help, his friendship. He's a good man."

Certes sighed as he studied the demigod, hearing the sincerity in his voice. But, friends could be blind to one another's faults. And, maybe the hero was right, maybe he could trust Iolaus...but, if the blond warrior was so loyal, how could he resist warning his old friend, Malthius? Certes needed to think about this some more. And, for that, he needed to be on his own. Standing, he nodded a little at Hercules as he said, "Alright, I hear what you're saying. It's late...time I went home. No doubt, I'll see you again tomorrow."

Hercules nodded in his turn as he stood to walk with the magistrate out of the dining room. "Good night," he said as he watched Certes walk out into the night. Turning to climb the stairs to his room, Hercules had an uneasy feeling and hoped he'd convinced the magistrate that his fears about Iolaus were groundless. As he reached the top of the stairs, he gazed for a moment at the closed door to his friend's room, then sighed and went into his own chamber, closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

As soon as Hercules woke and saw the sunlight streaming in his window, he was up and across the hall, rapping on Iolaus' door, but there was no answer. The demigod opened the door and grimaced in disappointment as he looked around Iolaus' chamber, spotting his buddy's pack but noting the sword was gone. He'd intended to be up to see Iolaus off, to caution his friend to be careful, and generally just hang around to let his buddy know he didn't like Iolaus taking off on his own, that he was worried. It wasn't that Iolaus couldn't handle himself, and hadn't pulled off this type of infiltration before, but there were a lot of them, and only one of him, and a great deal could go wrong.

Once again, Hercules regretted the constraint that had developed between them since Iolaus had found him with Xena. Ordinarily, his buddy would have banged on his door to tell him that he was off, and not to worry. Ordinarily, they would have talked last night, after the magistrate had taken his leave, about the tack Iolaus planned to take, not just retired wordlessly, to their own rooms. Sighing as he closed the door on the empty chamber, Herc reflected that ordinarily they wouldn't have accepted two rooms. They'd travelled for so many years together, and were usually so broke, they'd long ago learned to make do with one room on those rare occasions when they could afford it.

He clattered down the dark, narrow stairway and headed into the dining room, surprised to find the magistrate was there and apparently waiting for him. The man waved him over to his table, a troubled look on his face, clearly wanting to speak with him. Herc pulled out the chair and dropped into it, nodding at the server who placed a mug of water in front of him, and cast a look of enquiry at the official.

Certes seemed to be avoiding his eyes, pushing his mug around on the table, then he reached for an orange and began to peel it. Hercules nodded absently at the server who had put the bowl of fruit on the table. Finally, the magistrate took a breath, and looked squarely at the demigod. "I've been thinking about what you told me last night, about your friend. To be frank, I don't trust him not to warn his old comrade in crime that we are about to move on his camp."

Vaguely aware that the innkeeper had called the server out of the room for some errand or other, Hercules stared at the magistrate for a moment, dismayed. Shaking his head, he said, "There's no way..."

"I've decided that the risk is too great," Certes cut him off. "So, we'll raid the brigands' camp early tomorrow, take them by surprise, in case your 'friend' has really gone to warn his old comrade, and not to try to bring him in as he claimed."

"Now, wait just a minute!" Hercules objected, becoming seriously irritated as he decided he really didn't care for this man. Eyes flashing with annoyance, his voice low and tight as he held tight to his control, he continued scathingly, "You seem to have the wrong idea about Iolaus..."

Again Certes cut him off, "Maybe so. Nevertheless, I've decided that we will move on the camp long before a raid would be expected if it turns out you're the one who is wrong about your partner."

His eyes blazing as irritation turned to anger, his fist clenched on the table, Hercules tried to reason with the man, reminding him of the promise he'd given Iolaus, "If you raid early, you could put Iolaus in unnecessary danger...and you told him you'd give him until tomorrow night."

Certes shrugged with indifference, as he responded, "Regardless, I'm not prepared to take the chance of that hoard of brutes being ready for us. I've made up my mind about this, Hercules."

The demigod shook his head, and blew out an angry breath, frustrated that he couldn't restrain the magistrate's rash actions and worried that he had no idea how to alert Iolaus to the danger. Frowning, his eyes smoldering and his voice tight, Hercules tried one more time, "Look, this is a mistake. I told you last night, I trust Iolaus with my life and I can assure you that you can rely upon him." When the magistrate just looked away, Hercules pushed a hand through his hair. "Fine, if you're determined, then I'll have to find a way to warn Iolaus, and if possible, get him out of there before your forces attack."

Certes turned back sharply, "No! That's impossible. There is no way of getting any message to him short of walking straight into their camp, and that would only increase the risks. If your friend is as capable as you say, then I'm sure he'll be able to handle the surprise of our attack. And, for all you know, we might be doing him a favour if they see through his pretense and take him captive."

Eyes narrowed, jaw tight, Hercules glared at the man across the table, wondering why this jerk had bothered agreeing to Iolaus' plan last night if he'd never meant to keep his word. But, reluctantly, he nodded, looking away. Hercules didn't like it, but the magistrate was right. There was no way to get word to Iolaus in advance. Sighing, the demigod accepted that he'd just have to make it his business to watch out for his friend when the attack went down. It was the best he could do. Bringing his eyes back to the magistrate's, he asked in a voice echoing with his barely suppressed anger, "When do you plan to leave?"

Certes paused, as if considering the question, but he was really wondering whether he wanted the demigod with them on the raid. On the one hand, his strength would come in handy. On the other, he was obviously more concerned about his friend than seeing justice done, and that meant he could get in their way. "Just after dawn tomorrow," he finally answered.

Nodding tightly, unwilling to spend more time with this odious man, Hercules grabbed an apple from the fruit basket as he stood, and without another word, stalked out of the room.

* * *

"That's as far as you go," warned a disembodied voice from somewhere in the shrubbery in front of him.

Not at all surprised to be accosted by a sentry on the perimeter of the camp, Iolaus stood casually, one hand on the hilt of his sword and the thumb of the other hooked in his belt, the picture of easy assurance. He smiled with slight amusement as he replied to the challenge, "Ah, good, this must be the right place. I've come to see Malthius."

As the man circled the bush and stepped from the shadows, Iolaus' eyes flicked over his slightly scruffy appearance, his jerkin a little frayed, his pants patched, long dark hair tied back, not really aware that the brigand was no more scruffy than he was himself. "What do you want to see him about?" the lookout asked, his tone suggesting that the answer better be good.

Iolaus let his slight smile broaden into a grin, as he replied, "I'm an old friend and I haven't seen him in a long time. I heard he was in the area and thought I'd take the chance to catch up with him."

"What's your name?" demanded the sentry, unimpressed.

Iolaus gave a slight shake of his head and a conspiratorial wink, "I'd like to surprise him...see if he recognizes me after all this time."

"Malthius don't like surprises much," the man observed, wondering if he should send the guy packing or let him through...or maybe just kill him for practice.

"I'll risk his displeasure," Iolaus replied with a chuckle, his easy amiability masking the fact that he'd read the other man and was well aware the guy was sizing him up as an easy kill. Well, maybe Malthius wasn't the only one who'd get a surprise today.

"I think you should just head back to wherever you came from," the outlaw said dismissively.

"Nah," Iolaus replied, shaking his head, "Not after I've come so far." As if unaware of the threat the other man posed, Iolaus started to just walk around him, heading into the camp. When the annoyed bandit reached for his shoulder, intending to pull him around and deck him, Iolaus whipped up his hand, grabbing the other guy's wrist in a vice-like grip as he swiveled in behind the guy, painfully twisting his arm back and up. "Hey, it's nice of you to want to escort me in...I appreciate it!" Iolaus said good humouredly, with just the barest hint of steel under his words. None too gently, he pushed the bandit ahead of him as they headed into the camp.

Their arrival caused more than a little stir as more than thirty men grabbed their weapons at the sight of one of their own in the grip of a stranger. A loose-limbed, darkhaired man rose from the log near the fire, raising a hand to stay any precipitous action on the part of his men as he watched the newcomer warily, his eyes narrowing as he realized the guy looked familiar.

"Malthius, you old dog!" Iolaus called out with a grin, as he gently shoved his 'escort' away, ready when the man turned to lash out at him. Iolaus ducked under the punch and came up fast, his fist connecting with the underside of the other man's jaw, snapping his head back, out cold before he hit the ground. Shaking his hand as if the blow had hurt his fist, he grinned at Malthius, and continued with a low chuckle, "Great welcoming committee! Makes a guy feel right at home."

It was the voice, and the sound of the laugh, as much as the unruly blond curls and blue eyes dancing with devilment, that triggered the petty warlord's memory. Moving forward, arms wide, a huge smile of recognition on his face, he called out, "Iolaus, I don't believe it! Gods, it's been too many years!"

Iolaus laughed brightly as Malthius reached him and the two men clasped arms, then hugged and ended up slapping one another's backs in mutual delight. Malthius looked up and around at his men, explaining, "This is a very old friend...Iolaus, the hero of Thebes."

"Hero?" Iolaus snickered, a little taken aback. "I think you've got me mixed up with another guy, you know, taller? Strength of a hundred men?"

Malthius just shook his head, as he replied with a warm smile, "No, I'm not mistaken. Easy for a demigod to be a famous hero...but a kid from the streets? Don't you know you've been the inspiration for poor and homeless kids for more than fifteen years?"

Iolaus couldn't help the smile that played across his face, as he shrugged diffidently and looked away, touched by the unexpected praise. Looking back up at the taller man, he murmured quietly, "Thanks, Mal...I appreciate that."

But, Malthius was already looking back the way Iolaus had come, a questioning frown on his face. "So, where is your ever present partner?" he asked, glancing back at Iolaus, wariness beginning to push aside the unconscious glow of friendship that had lit his eyes when he'd realized who'd just walked in.

Iolaus cocked his head at the question, then looked down and shrugged as if a little embarrassed. "We've...decided to go our separate ways," he replied, feeling bad about the lie but knowing it was necessary. For all that this man had once been a friend, there was no predicting his actions now. "Things haven't been going all that well lately, and, frankly, his righteousness has been grating for some long time now."

Malthius studied the smaller man, rubbing a hand over his mouth as he considered Iolaus' explanation, not believing him for a minute. Iolaus and Hercules had been partners and friends for twenty-five years. Either Iolaus was lying to him, or something serious had happened between the two of them, to cause Iolaus to take off on his own. Finally, he replied, his voice low and a little dangerous, "You'll have to do better than that."

Iolaus' eyes flicked up at his old friend, and he had the grace to look chagrined, as if he'd been caught out. Moving closer, lowering his voice so that the others wouldn't hear, he confided, "A year ago, a woman seduced me, and I fell in love with her...but, she was just setting me up, to get me to fight Herc so that we'd kill one another. Well, a couple of days ago, I found them together...her and Hercules." Iolaus paused, not having to fake the tightness in his voice or the need to swallow to moisten a throat made dry by the memories. "I...well, I need a little time on my own."

Malthius laid a hand on Iolaus' shoulder, convinced by the candour, hearing the quite obvious pain echoing in Iolaus' voice. "Alright...but, that doesn't explain how you happened to find me."

"Well, I heard some guy talking about you when I stopped in town last night. I didn't have anything better to do, so I thought I'd look you up. It sounded like you've been busy," Iolaus replied, giving his old friend a speculative look as he finished speaking.

"You could say that," Malthius agreed amiably, as he put an arm around Iolaus' shoulder to guide him back across the clearing to the fire, where they sat down together. The rest of the gang relaxed at the evident welcome their leader had given the newcomer, and turned back to their own conversations.

Iolaus leaned his forearms on his legs, his hands clasped as he stared a moment into the fire, then unable to deceive his friend any more than he had to, he decided not to use the pretense of wanting to join the gang. Iolaus turned to look up at his friend. "What happened, Mal? This wasn't the road you were on when I knew you," he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

The older man shrugged, as he replied quietly, "Life happened, I guess. The years just went by, and one day I looked around and found myself in a gang of cutthroats. I realized that somewhere along the way, I'd become one of them. And, as it happened, I'm a little brighter than most of them, so they came to respect my planning capabilities. Before I knew it, I was the leader of the gang."

Malthius was a little surprised at his own candour, but Iolaus had always been special to him. Though it had been years since they'd last seen each other, and they'd travelled vastly different roads since then, he'd never forgotten the spunky, fearless kid who'd been the closest thing to a kid brother he'd ever had. He'd followed the stories of Iolaus and Hercules, and had been genuinely pleased that the kid had grown up to be such an amazingly decent man, proud to know Iolaus was now a hero of Greece.

Gods, it was good to see him again.

Iolaus frowned and shook his head as he looked away, his voice low as he reflected, "It's a dead end road, Mal. You have to know that. You'll either get yourself killed by the authorities, or on a raid, or by one of your own men who thinks it's his turn to lead...or you'll go to prison." Turning back to face his friend, he cocked an eyebrow, "You never struck me as a guy who had a death wish."

"Well, you've grown cheerful as you've aged," Malthius replied with gentle sarcasm, slapping Iolaus on the back. But, for him, the dinar had dropped. Iolaus hadn't just happened to wander by, this was no casual reunion. Iolaus'd come to sound him out about surrender. Well, he'd give the hero his answer.

"We all die sometime, my friend...and the stars are better than a stone ceiling. But, nobody is going to die today." Malthius paused, looking squarely at this old friend, to be sure he got the message.

Even knowing that the younger man had deceived him a little, Malthius was glad to see him, glad to have the chance to catch up on all the years since they'd last seen each other on the streets of Thebes. So long as the rest of his gang never guessed there was more to it than a visit from an old friend, he wouldn't have to act. He had no interest in fighting Iolaus, no interest in threatening his life...he'd saved it too often those long years ago.

For a moment, Iolaus gazed into his old friend's eyes, and knew that Malthius had seen through him, but wasn't going to do anything about it, letting it go for the sake of their old friendship. Nor did Iolaus need to pursue his mission further. Mal had spoken lightly, but it was clear that he'd never willingly give himself up to spend the rest of his life in prison. The warrior didn't like to see his old friend on the road to Tarturus...but, he could understand that, sometimes, you're just in too deep to turn back. And, he could also understand a man not wanting to spend the rest of his life in prison, if he was lucky, or a salt mine, if he wasn't.

But, the old friendship was still there in Mal's eyes. Damn. Why did life have to get so screwed up? This guy could have been so good, so decent. He'd looked out for the smaller kids, had never been mean. He'd just never really had much of a chance for a different life before he'd gone too far down the wrong road.

Before the silence stretched out too long, Malthius signalled the change in subject, asking with studied ingenuousness, but with a teasing light in his eyes, "So, tell me, is it true that you once helped kill a hydra?"

Shaking his head as they each acknowledged the silent truth between them, Iolaus smiled a little, then answered Mal's question in the spirit in which it had been asked...as a friend who wanted to spend a little time for old times' sake, before they again went their separate ways.

"Two of them, actually," Iolaus replied with a chuckle, and leaning back, he launched into his stories, as willing as not to pass the time this way. Since he had to spend a few hours here to lend credence to his story in front of the other bandits, he settled in to enjoy himself. Deep down, he was pleased that he'd been right to trust in their old friendship...somehow, he'd known Mal would never turn against him, not unless he had to, anyway.

It was just after noon when Iolaus looked up and saw a new guy saunter into camp, average height, thin, nondescript somehow, but when he caught the other man's eye, warning bells went off in his head as he felt a chill of recognition. Frowning, he tried to remember where he'd seen this guy before.

Without hesitation, the newcomer crossed the camp to stand before Malthius. It was when he flicked a sideways glance down at Iolaus that the warrior remembered him. Stiffening, he heard the man say, as he cocked his head in Iolaus' direction, "This one could be trouble."

"Really?" Malthius enquired, not surprised. Even when he'd been a kid, forced to steal to survive, Iolaus had had his own brand of ethics and honesty. He'd suspected something was going down when his old comrade had arrived so unexpectedly, and had been even more certain when Iolaus had not so subtly posed the question of choice between death and prison. Still, it was too bad that Iolaus had been found out. Now, there was no choice but to deal with him, no question of justing letting him walk out of the camp.

"Yeah, I heard 'em talking last night. This one said he'd try to bring you in, asked them to give 'im two days. They'll attack after that. Did ya know this one and Hercules brought in Talos and his bunch yesterday afternoon?" the newcomer replied, giving Iolaus another speculative look. "But, they're not sure they can trust 'im. That fool, Certes, thinks he might've come up here to warn you after the hero told 'im this one knew you when he'd been a thief."

"You're the server...in the dining room of the inn," Iolaus interjected, wondering if the man's report gave him room to shuffle. If Certes didn't trust him, and Herc had played along for some reason, at least long enough to give this guy the impression he'd been agreeing with the magistrate, then maybe he could fake his way out of this. He pushed away the question of why Herc would have 'played along', how he could have known the server was a spy, as something he just didn't have the time to think about right then.

"That's right," Malthius confirmed, "our man on the inside, who keeps us posted on wealthy merchants, caravans, and any other useful gossip, like what really brought you here." The warmth of friendship was still in his eyes, but it was overshadowed by regret. Suspecting that Iolaus might be up to something wasn't the same thing as being told he'd come to help put him in prison. He wondered if Iolaus really would have warned him of the impending attack, to give him a chance to escape. Sadly, he doubted it. If it had just been him, maybe, but Iolaus wasn't the sort to allow a hoard of bandits to go free to terrorize another town somewhere else.

"Whoa, hold on!" Iolaus protested, the picture of injured innocence. "You heard what he said. The magistrate figured out why I asked for the time to see you before they attacked. I was just getting to it earlier when you distracted me with the question about the hydra."

Malthius snorted, but couldn't resist a weary smile as he gazed into those wide, guileless eyes. "Don't give me that look, Iolaus...I remember it too well." Shaking his head, wishing it hadn't come to this, Malthius asked rhetorically, "What am I going to do with you now?"

Iolaus grinned back, as he suggested cheekily, realizing his game was definitely up, "Let me go?"

"No, I don't think so," the outlaw mused. "I imagine Hercules would pay a lot to get you back."

Iolaus burst out laughing at that. "He might," he chuckled, "if he ever had any money...but, you'll get more blood from a stone than you'll get dinars from Hercules."

"We'll see," Malthius responded, signalling to one of his men. "Tie him up while I think about how much use he might be as a hostage. Sounds like we have more than a day before trouble arrives."

Iolaus found himself unceremoniously hauled to his feet, but as the guy started to drag him away, he twisted and lashed back with his elbow, startling the outlaw enough to break his grip, then whirled and kicked, driving the man to his knees. The others were up and moving by then, and Iolaus found himself surrounded, which had its good points...no matter where he punched or kicked, he hit someone. There was a moment when he thought he might break clear, lunging to vault over the back of a guy he'd just winded with a sharp kick to the solar plexis, but someone grabbed at his vest, and held on, throwing him off balance, and he found himself tumbling to the ground. There was no room to roll away, and nowhere to go that wasn't blocked by bandits. Someone kicked out, connecting with his head, and everything went black.

* * *

When he woke up, it was dusk, and his head was pounding. He was sitting at the foot of a tree, his arms pulled back on either side of the trunk, his wrists bound together on the other side of the tree. Sighing as he looked around, he wondered how he was going to get out of this one. Damn, he hated being a hostage.

The others didn't immediately notice that he'd regained consciousness, and when they did, they just ignored him. He licked his lips, his mouth dry, but he doubted he'd be given any water, or any food for that matter. Pretending to pass out again, Iolaus dropped his chin onto his chest, while behind the shelter of the tree, he was limbering up his fingers, trying to get the blood going again, trying not to wince at the pain as feeling returned to his hands. He twisted his wrists, pulling and stretching the rope a little at a time. It would take hours to loosen it enough to make a difference, and by then he'd have lost a lot of skin around his wrists. But, that was okay...the blood would make his hands slippery, and make it easier to ease them out of their restraints. He just hoped he'd get loose while it was still dark.

* * *

Certes had arranged with Adamentes to have the full militia ready to ride out two hours before dawn. As he mounted his horse, Adamentes looked around, a puzzled frown on his face. "Isn't Hercules coming with us?" he asked, surprised that the demigod wasn't there. He knew Iolaus had infiltrated Malthius' gang, and he'd been certain Hercules would have gone with them to ensure his partner didn't get caught in the crossfire.

Certes just shook his head. "No, he's going to follow along later." Pulling on the reins, he turned his horse away before Adamentes could make any other comment, and led the troupe out of the silent, dark town. If all went according to plan, they'd be in position just as dawn lightened the sky.

* * *

Iolaus was beginning to think he was never going to get his hands loose. His arms felt like they were being pulled from their sockets, and cramps kept tightening his muscles. Biting his lip, he kept a watch for the guard that patrolled the camp, and doggedly kept working away at the ropes. He was running out of time. It would be dawn in another hour.

* * *

Herc was up before dawn, and quietly headed down the stairway so as not to disturb the other folks staying at the inn. He found the innkeeper laying kindling and logs in the hearth just inside the entrance to the dining room.

"Meneas, you're up early," Hercules observed quietly.

The innkeeper was startled by the unexpected voice and turned, clearly surprised to see Hercules. "You're still here? I would have thought you'd have gone with the others," he said with a puzzled tone.

Herc stiffened, as he asked, "Others? What others?"

"Certes and the patrol," Meneas confirmed as he pushed himself up off his knees.

"When did they leave?" Hercules demanded, feeling the flutter of anxiety.

Meneas frowned as he scratched his cheek, "Must be more than an hour ago."

Herc's face lost all expression, and he paled a little in dim light of the candle on the mantel. And then he was racing out the door, running through the silent streets and out of the town, heading up into the dark hills as fast as he could go. With every stride, he cursed Certes, knowing that he'd been left behind deliberately. The magistrate had no interest in Iolaus' welfare. He just wanted to capture the bandits...kill them if possible. Iolaus was going to be caught in the middle, and the Gods knew what Certes would tell his men. He believed Iolaus was no more than a thief and wouldn't care much if he was mistaken in the melee for one of the outlaws.

He pounded up along the forest path, knowing that he'd be too late. As fast as he could go, and that was a good deal faster than a horse moving at a cantor, they had too much of a lead. The battle would be underway by the time he got there. "Damn it!" he muttered as he noted the light growing, the forest becoming more distinct. Dawn wasn't far away.

* * *

About a mile from the camp, Certes held up his hand, signalling a stop to those behind him. Turning his horse, he addressed them quietly, "Some of you know that blond warrior with Hercules infiltrated the camp yesterday. I have reason to believe that he's joined the outlaws...but, I can't be sure. So, it'll be up to him to decide which side he's fighting on when we storm in. These are desperate men, and they will fight to the death. We'll try to take them alive, but don't risk your own lives unnecessarily. Kill if you must. Any questions?"

When there were none, he issued his instructions to those he wanted to circle around to come into the camp from the far side, to catch the bandits between their two forces. He was confident that with the element of surprise on his side, his force would be more than equal to the challenge of subduing the renegades. As Adamentes rode off with the other group, the soldier pondered Certes' words, shaking his head. He just didn't believe Iolaus was a renegade. He wondered again, though, why Hercules wasn't with them.

* * *

Iolaus noted the darkness lightening to a dim gray, and the knowledge that dawn wasn't far off made him struggle with his bonds that much harder. Finally, he felt one hand slip free and he was loose. He cast a quick look around the camp, making sure the sentry was turned away, and then he was up and moving soundlessly back toward the forest around them. But, he'd not gone more than ten feet when he heard a horse whicker, and then the snap of a branch...from a direction where there shouldn't be horses. Malthius' animals were in a makeshift corral on the far side of the camp. He faded into the shadows, wondering what was going on.

"Going somewhere?" breathed a voice in his ear, and he froze at the feeling of the knife point through the back of his vest.

Iolaus lifted his hands slowly and then turned to look at Malthius, who was gazing at him with a slightly sardonic look. "Well, I was getting a bit stiff and thought I'd stretch my legs," Iolaus said quietly, his ears picking up a soft thud of a hoof not far off. From the look on Maltheus' face, he knew his old comrade had heard it, too.

Malthius let the knife drop as he gazed into the shadowed forest. "There's trouble out there, and they won't know who's friend or foe...it's not safe to leave right now, even if I could let you go. Head back to the camp, now."

Before Iolaus could move, the sentry on the other side of the camp yelled a warning, waking his comrades, who rolled to their feet, weapons in their hands, just as mounted warriors crashed through the trees from either side of the camp. Iolaus saw one of them launch an arrow at Malthius' back, and he didn't need to think about it, his reaction as natural as breathing. "Get down!" he yelled, pushing hard to knock his old friend out of the line of fire.

By then, several of the bandits had joined their leader, and two of them dragged Iolaus back toward the camp. The soldiers had seen Iolaus save the life of the bandit chief, and came to their own conclusions, their attention distracted as they engaged in furious battle. Meanwhile, Iolaus kicked back, flipping up and over, breaking their hold on him, and he thumped their heads together. Turning, he ran smack into a fist, and staggered back, tasting blood. He dropped reflexively, and rolled away from his assailant, grimacing when he saw a spear plough into the ground where he'd just been standing.

One of the patrol's spears.

"Oh wonderful!" he muttered, realizing he was in no man's land. Both sides thought he was the enemy. Not a good position to be in when he didn't even have his sword. A little desperate, he quickly scanned the field of battle, looking for Hercules. He spotted Certes and Adamentes, as well as several of the other members of the town's militia, saw Malthius engaged in a deadly game of thrust and parry with a soldier...but no demigod. Not good. Weapon, he needed a weapon, and then he needed to get his back against something solid, so that no one could get him from behind.

Iolaus tackled one of the bandits rushing by, driving the man to the ground. Belting him hard, knocking him out, Iolaus grabbed his sword and rolled to his feet, scrambling back just in time to miss being trampled by a rampaging horse, it's rider long gone. Two of the bandits came at him, and the next thing he knew, he was engaged in a furious sword battle, while horses jostled and plunged, and arrows flew through the air, as men yelled in fury and screamed in pain. Catching one man on the arm, breaking it with the flat of his sword, he dodged back from the thrust from the other, then spun, coming around hard, adding strength and power to his blow, knocking the sword from the hand of the second attacker, who bolted when he found himself weaponless, only to be cut down by one of the patrol's arrows.

Out of the corner of his eye, Iolaus saw one of the mounted soldiers charging him, spear at the ready. He turned to face the threat that was bearing down upon him, judging the moment to the split second. Just as the soldier was about to launch the spear, he stepped back and to the side, yelling, "I'm on your side, you idiot!", then proved it by diving across the path of the charging horse to take out one of the bandits who was coming at the soldier from his blind side.

Adamentes saw what had happened, and swung his horse around to fight his way over toward Iolaus. He didn't know why Certes had doubted this man, but the soldier hadn't believed for a moment that Iolaus would ever betray them. "IOLAUS!" he shouted, "TO ME!"

Iolaus' head jerked around at the cry, and he realized Adamentes was trying to get to him, to offer him some protection so that the patrol at least would stop using him for target practice. He kicked at a man in front of him, doubling him over, and leapt over his back, two feet soundly hitting the chest of another bandit, knocking him down. The camp was chaos in the halflight of the dawn. Horses plunging, rearing and milling around, men locked in mortal combat, spears and arrows slicing through the air, the clang of swords clashing...and the ever constant screams as men died.

Finally, he and Adamentes managed to converge. "Stay by me," Adamentes called to him, as he lashed out at a bandit who was trying to hamstring his horse. Iolaus got into the fight, and this time he had to kill.

"Where's Hercules?" Iolaus called over his shoulder to Adamentes as he fought off yet another attacker, deeply worried that something must have happened to his partner to keep him from being here.

"On his way," the soldier called back, hoping it was true.

The patrol began to prevail, and bandits sensing the defeat in the offing, began to try to slip past and away into the shadows of the forest, but the riders were watching and cut them off. Yells of "Surrender," and "Drop your weapons!" filled the air...and, one after another, the bandits who were still standing wondered if they shouldn't comply before they too died.

The fighting was almost done when Hercules raced into the clearing, his eyes raking the area until he found Iolaus, and heaved a sigh of relief. He headed across the camp, backhanding or strongarming anyone who got in his way. It was his presence that finished it. All hope of any victory or escape gone, the bandits dropped their weapons and raised their hands, signalling they'd had enough.

Iolaus scanned them looking for Malthius, worried when he didn't see him. His eyes raked the camp site, and then he spotted his old friend, not far from where they'd been standing when the battle started. Even from here, Iolaus could tell from the wounds that Mal was dead. He looked away and swallowed hard, feeling a profound sorrow that it had come to this. He wished with all his heart that it could have ended differently...that he'd been able to find a way to save his old friend. But, now it was too late. Mal was gone.

"Iolaus!" Herc called, as he got closer. "Gods, I'm glad you're all right!"

Iolaus gazed at him wearily, his eyes clouded by sorrow, but at the look of relief on his partner's face, Iolaus gave him a wry grin, then winced when the expression pulled at the split flesh at the left corner of his lower lip. "Where were you?" he called back, his hand coming up to dab at the small wound, wondering why it had taken his best friend so long to get there. He didn't notice his hands, streaked with blood from his raw wrists, but Hercules cringed inside when he saw them.

"I'll explain later," Hercules said as he came along side, his eyes scanning Iolaus from head to foot to make sure all the injuries, the cuts, bruises and abrasions, were only superficial.

Iolaus nodded and turned back to Adamentes. "Thanks," he said sincerely, "I appreciate you backing me up."

He didn't see Hercules wince at those words, knowing that he should have been the one at Iolaus' back.

But, when Certes rode up, Iolaus whirled on him, furious. The magistrate had promised him two days...and had not only led the raid that had killed his old friend, but which had almost gotten him killed, too. His eyes blazing, the warrior demanded harshly, "What in Tarturus was this all about? You told me I had two days!"

Certes stared at him coldly. "When Hercules told me you and Malthius had been in the same thieving gang, I decided I couldn't take the chance of trusting you."

Iolaus rolled his eyes as he dabbed gingerly at his lip, trying to contain his temper. "Are you an idiot?" he demanded, not bothering to hide his disgust. "That was twenty years ago!"

Certes bristled at the tone in Iolaus' voice, his eyes narrowed as he replied scathingly, "Regardless, I acted as I thought necessary to protect my town. Hercules agreed that you couldn't be...."

"What?" Iolaus interjected, looking sharply up at the magistrate and then turning to face his friend, shock and disbelief in his eyes. "You agreed?" he repeated, his voice hollow, scarcely able to take it in, feeling as if the earth had shifted under his feet.

Herc raised his hands as he glared at the magistrate, replying, "Iolaus...you don't understand...."

"No...apparently there's a lot I don't understand," Iolaus cut in, his voice tight, his eyes dark with hurt. It was as if all sound had died away, and he was muffled, separate somehow from the world around him. For a moment he rejected it, believing there had to be another explanation, that Herc wouldn't have betrayed him like that. But, after all that had happened that week, he was no longer sure...and that scared him. But, then he felt a fierce burning fury, that his oldest and best friend had once again betrayed his trust.

And, this time, it was one time too many.

Appalled, Hercules watched an expression of anguish, and something like despair, cross his friend's face fleetingly...there was a spark of fury, and then Iolaus just seemed to close down, all expression gone, as if it had been washed away.

"Iolaus," Herc tried again, feeling an ache at the look in his best friend's eyes, knowing his buddy had misunderstood, and then alarm flooded his heart at the flat, dead look that blotted out the hurt. He held out a hand, and took a half step toward his friend.

But, Iolaus raised a warning hand to stave off further conversation as he turned away, his eyes on the ground, trying to hold in the anger. It was taking all he had not to lash out and slug the demigod. "Right," he muttered bitterly, casting a last withering glance at Certes and at the man who had been his best friend for almost the whole of his life, "you can both go to Tartarus."

Without another word, he shouldered past Adamentes' horse, Certes' mount between him and Hercules. He jogged rapidly across the camp, stopping only briefly on the far side where the weapons had been stacked to toss aside the sword he was carrying and to grab up the scabbard with his own weapon and to pull his knife from the edge of the pile, sliding it into his boot. Then he was through the trees on the far side, heading into the hills away from the town.

He heard Hercules calling after him, but he didn't turn around and he didn't stop.

Furious, the demigod whirled on Certes and dragged him from his mount. "Damn you! You lied to me, left me behind...he could have been killed...." Hercules growled as he shook the man with helpless frustration, then dropped him on the ground. Towering over him, his eyes blazing, barely able to contain his rage, Hercules thundered, "I'm going after him to explain what happened, and then I'm bringing him back to town and you are going to APOLOGIZE to him. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Cowering, realizing he'd acted foolishly, the magistrate nodded.

"Good," snapped Hercules, then he turned and jogged across the camp, intent upon catching up with his friend. He'd let Iolaus leave without trying to stop him immediately, believing his buddy needed a little time to cool down, but Hercules wanted to clear up the misunderstanding as quickly as possible. He hated that Iolaus believed that he had agreed his best friend couldn't be trusted. Damn it, anyway!

Adamentes looked down at the man in the dust, contempt flashing in his eyes. He'd always thought their magistrate a fool, overly self-important, and downright stupid. And now he knew he was right. Wheeling his horse away, he went to help his men finish securing their prisoners, tend to the wounded, and to oversee the internment of the bodies of the bandits.

* * *

As he'd jogged across the camp, Iolaus had felt stunned, shocked to his core by what had just happened. He didn't think about where he was going, he just knew he had to get away. As he faded into the forest's shadows, he felt the breath tight in his chest, and he was almost panting with the effort of containing his emotions. He dragged in a deep breath, and then another, forcing himself to push it all back. He couldn't think about it yet.

He hadn't gone far when he realized he was heading away from the town. Angling back toward his destination, he came across a stream and used it to cover his trail. He'd heard Hercules calling him from some distance back, but there was no way he could face him, not yet...maybe not ever. He picked up his pace, and half a mile later was glad to spot a horse that had run loose from the battle, grazing in a small clearing just ahead. Slowing, so as not to alarm the animal, he approached calmly, murmuring to it. Used to men, the animal held its ground, and willingly let Iolaus mount. Pulling at the reins, and kicking the horse sharply, Iolaus set off as fast as the terrain would allow.

* * *

Hercules had plunged into the forest, and at first he'd had no difficulty following his friend's trail as Iolaus had been too upset to bother covering his tracks. Repeatedly, he called out his friend's name, but there was never an answer. Then, when he got to a narrow stream, it was as if Iolaus had just disappeared. He quartered both sides of the stream for half a mile in either direction, but could find no other sign. "Dammit," he mumbled, as he stopped and looked up and around the forest. It was then that he realized that their direction had subtly changed. Iolaus' trail had started to angle back toward the town.

Sagging a little with relief, Herc figured Iolaus had stormed off, too angry just then to talk, but he'd calmed down and realized he was heading in the wrong direction. Accordingly, his buddy had angled back toward the town, no doubt making his way back to the inn. No longer worried about finding a trail, Hercules picked up his pace, jogging through the dim forest back to the settlement, figuring he'd catch up to Iolaus on the way, and explain.

He didn't notice the hoof prints that were headed in the same general direction.

* * *

When he got back to the town, Iolaus rode directly to the inn. Tying the horse outside, he loped into the building, across the foyer, oblivious to the startled look Meneas gave him, and pounded up the stairs to his room. He grabbed up his pack, turned on his heel and headed back out into the hall. Glancing down to the far end, he spotted a back staircase and decided to take it. It led to an exit just to the side of the kitchen. Slipping out, he cut across the alley, then between a row of buildings, cutting diagonally across the settlement, heading to the forest on its far side.

He didn't allow himself to think until he'd been travelling for an hour, and then he couldn't hold it off any longer. He stumbled, and then went down on his knees, his arms wrapped around his body, his head down. He tried to concentrate on his breathing, still trying to block it all off, but the fury raged on, only now the pain and grief again knifed through him.

Hercules had betrayed him.

Iolaus' breathing was ragged as he tried to hold back the sobs that wanted to rise from his heart. He couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. But...Herc had let the magistrate believe he couldn't be trusted. Had left Iolaus to be caught between the bandits and the militia, both sides wanting his head. Hadn't been there to sort it out, to stand by him...had left him to fend for himself.

Iolaus shuddered and blinked hard, refusing to weep. Three times in less than a week Herc had betrayed his trust. His faith in his friend shattered, Iolaus numbly shook his head, wondering what he'd done to turn Hercules against him. His buddy had given no sign, had just been a little remote. But, maybe he hoped to go after Xena, and join up with her after all. Gods, couldn't he have just said so? How could he have agreed...?

But, then, at the thought of Xena, Iolaus' battered heart supplied the possible answer as to why Hercules seemed to have abandoned him. With a sinking despair, he wondered if maybe Herc had never really trusted him again after he'd turned against the demigod, fighting Hercules because of the lies Xena had told him. Gods, maybe Herc really did think that he couldn't ever be trusted.

"Gods, no..." he whispered, his throat tight, feeling suddenly hollow, empty, except for the sharp ache that filled his chest as the realization that Hercules might even despise him crashed through his consciousness. Dazed, he looked up and around, not really seeing the bright, cloudless sky, believing his life as he'd known it was over.

It didn't help that he felt as though he had betrayed Malthius, and that his old friend had died because Iolaus had chosen not to warn him of an impending attack...the warrior's loyalty resting with men who had in their turn betrayed him. He figured that Malthius would no doubt agree with Hercules, would agree that Iolaus' friendship couldn't be relied upon, couldn't be trusted when something, or someone, else was more important to him.

Sick at heart, beginning to twist it all around so that he blamed himself for all that had happened, Iolaus chastised himself bitterly, blinking back the tears that burned in his eyes. Tears wouldn't help anything, wouldn't change anything. So, he pushed the feelings down, and finally getting his breathing under control, Iolaus pushed himself to his feet, and headed deeper into the forest.

* * *

When Hercules loped into the inn, Meneas was still behind the desk, sorting through documents, putting his records in order. "Have you seen Iolaus?" the demigod paused to ask, his tone hopeful.

Meneas looked up and nodded. "Yes, he rode into town on the horse tied outside and stormed up the stairs about an hour ago. What happened?"

But, Hercules was already charging up the stairs, taking two at a time, and he practically knocked the door of Iolaus' room off its hinges as he slammed it open in his anxious need to see his friend, to explain, to wipe out the memory of that stricken look in Iolaus' eyes, and worse, the flat look as he shut his emotions down.

But, Iolaus wasn't there. Frantically, Hercules' gaze swept the chamber, his heart plunging to his feet when he noted that the pack was gone. He slumped back against the door frame, and pressed his eyes closed. He'd known Iolaus had been hurt, and was no doubt furious...but, he'd fully expected to find his buddy here. It hadn't occurred to him that Iolaus would just take off.

And Herc had no idea where to even begin looking for him. Pushing a hand roughly through his hair, Hercules stood away from the doorway, determinedly setting out back down the stairs. Not knowing where to begin looking just meant it would take a little longer to find Iolaus...but he was going to find him.

* * *

As he walked, putting ever more distance between himself and Hercules, Iolaus wondered what he'd do with the rest of his life. He'd liked helping people, but no one had ever really noticed him, and it wasn't likely that people would seek him out on his own when they were in trouble. No, they'd keep turning to Hercules. Besides smithing, the only things he really knew how to do were hunt, fight and steal. But, he didn't want to settle down anywhere just yet, and smithing meant staying put. He felt as if he had to keep moving, had to try to stay ahead of the misery that dogged his back trail, trying to ambush him when he wasn't paying attention. He didn't want to be a mercenary, and he sure as Tartarus wasn't going to become the thief they'd accused him of being. But, he wanted to fight more than he wanted to hunt. He felt a burning need to lash out. It was about the only thing he did feel, the only emotion that wasn't locked away, frozen in the depths of his soul.

So, he was heading to Corinth, to Jason. Maybe his old friend would have something for him to do, a role he could play. Or, maybe the King would know of someone else who might need his services. Whatever. He didn't much care.

Sometimes the misery would overtake him and bring him down. At those moments, he had to lean against a tree for support, fighting the pain that rose in his chest, slowing his breathing, blinking back tears he would not allow to fall. Gods, he'd never trusted anyone like he'd trusted Hercules...never loved anyone as much. He couldn't fathom how, after all these years, Herc could just turn on him, or at least, turn away from him. Had the mistake he'd made with Xena really warranted this betrayal...twice Herc had left him in a position where he could easily have been killed. Did the man he'd always loved as a brother really want him dead? Had what he had done a year ago deserved that?

But, then, after a time, he wondered what he'd done to ever deserve the love Herc had always given him unconditionally. It had always been a mystery to him, one that he'd gradually stopped wondering about, and had just accepted that somehow, despite the fact that he was worthless, that he'd been a thief, that he was impetuous and stubborn, reckless...somehow, Hercules thought he mattered. Herc forgave him his thoughtless actions, cared about him. Or, at least he had until now. But, because of Xena, Iolaus had tried to kill Hercules...maybe now, because of Xena, Hercules no longer cared if Iolaus lived or died.

He fought to master his despair, and he buried the pain a little deeper with every passing day, with every step he took away from the man he'd have died for. Deep down, it was Hercules whom he wanted to fight, to hurt, as Hercules had hurt him...but, there was too much between them, too many memories, there'd been too much love, so Iolaus wouldn't admit to himself that it was Herc that he wanted to hit. It was easier to turn the anger against himself, convincing himself that he was to blame for all of it.

Iolaus didn't know that with every step, he also became more remote, hard. As the days went on, his eyes became colder as ice settled in his heart, freezing out the fire of betrayal and fury, numbing the despair and pain. The man who had greeted each day as a new adventure, who had moved with a cheerful jauntiness, with eyes that danced with humour, was dying inside. He could bury the pain, but the anger was consuming him. He wanted so badly to strike out at something. He didn't know that he projected an aura of danger, or that he moved with the grace, and threat, of a hunting lion.

Twice over that first week, he was accosted by wannabe thieves who thought he looked an easy mark...a lone man, small at that, who couldn't be hard to overcome. But, he'd lashed out with a barely chained fury, and the look in his eyes terrified them. Those that could, ran. Those that were overcome were hauled off to whatever village was nearby to be thrown in the local slammer.

Once, in a tavern in one of those villages, the local bullies had started their usual routine, thinking they'd have some fun with him. He ignored them until one of them was stupid enough to start the fight. The warrior who had used to shout with the joy of battle, yelling as he lashed out, now moved with a cold, efficient, silence. Iolaus dealt with them without mercy, laying them out in seconds, so that they were never able to live down the stories of how the small, blond warrior had disposed of eight of them as if they had been school boys. He hadn't even broken a sweat. As he'd stood over their unconscious bodies, his hard eyes roamed the smoky tavern, silently inviting others to take up the challenge. But, the empty, flat look in his eyes chilled their souls. They all turned away from him, shivering unconsciously, thinking you didn't see eyes like that often, the eyes of someone dangerous, who didn't care about anything or anyone, who would kill or die with no particular grief or regret.

In truth, they mistook him for a killer. But, they were wrong. Iolaus hadn't lost any of his innate decency, and he regretted the effect he seemed to have on people now. He'd never lash out at anyone who hadn't attacked him first. Even when he was attacked, and he allowed his fury to flow unfettered, something in him still kept him from killing wantonly. But, he couldn't seem to get past that sense of being removed, remote, unable to make contact with other human beings. He felt no joy, never laughed, never sang as he strode purposefully through the forest and along country lanes. Most of the time now, he just felt numb.

But, they were right about one thing when they looked into those eyes. They were right in their assessment that this was a man who would die without regret...might even welcome death as a kind of relief. In that, they saw more than Iolaus realized in his own right. Oh, he knew he was fighting recklessly, that he was behaving dangerously, and could get hurt. He just didn't care.

* * *

Hercules had been sending out messages and asking of word about Iolaus for almost a week. He'd learned enough, finally, to figure out his friend was heading toward Corinth. But, he was days behind, with little hope of catching up since it seemed Iolaus was moving quickly. Gods, he hoped his buddy was heading toward Jason, and would stay put for a few days so that he could finally catch up with him.

At first, the demigod couldn't figure it out, couldn't understand why Iolaus had reacted so strongly to what he had to have known was at most a misunderstanding and at worst, a lie by the magistrate. Surely Iolaus knew him better than to believe he'd ever deliberately malign him, or leave him to battle dangerous odds alone. But, the memory of the look in Iolaus' eyes haunted him during the day, and penetrated his dreams at night, so that more than once, he'd woken sharply, unconsciously calling out for his friend, before he remembered Iolaus was gone.

And, he'd heard some things that bothered him, though he didn't want to believe them. He'd heard that Iolaus scared people now, and that's largely why they remembered him passing through. They said his eyes looked cold and dead. And, when he went through the villages where the bandits had been jailed, and then where the bullies had been bested, he heard stories of a man who fought without restraint, and no apparent regard or concern for his own safety.

Those stories frightened him. Something was terribly wrong. Somehow, Iolaus had blown what had happened into something that was changing him...something that had cut him to his soul. They said he looked like a man who would almost welcome death, or who at least could care less if he lived or died. Gods, how could Iolaus believe Hercules had betrayed him, believe it so strongly it was beginning to destroy him?

But, gradually, Hercules started to put the pieces together, started to understand what had happened. If it had just been the incident with Certes, Iolaus would have blown up, but he wouldn't have taken off, not without getting a few answers. But, it wasn't just that. And, it wasn't even the thoughtlessness he'd shown during the battle to save the merchant and his family, leaving Iolaus' back unguarded and vulnerable to attack, though that couldn't have helped.

It was Xena.

Though he'd tried not to think about it, Hercules realized now that he'd allowed himself to pretend that he hadn't betrayed Iolaus, hadn't hurt his friend deeply because he'd been unable to turn away from his own needs, his own desires. Iolaus had taken it, but not easily. They might have gotten past it if nothing more had happened. But, taken all together, Iolaus had good reason to wonder if there was any reason left to trust him. Damn. He should have gone after him right away, not wasted time raging at Certes. He just hadn't thought....

Grimly, the demigod berated himself. He hadn't thought about much lately, just reacted. This was all his fault and he had to fix it, had to catch up to his friend and explain and hope it wasn't too late, that Iolaus wouldn't turn away from him forever. Or, even more frightening, that Iolaus' fury would blind him to danger, and that, reckless in his anger, he'd get himself hurt. Herc picked up his pace, desperately worried that Iolaus would take one too many chances before he caught up with him, and made everything that was wrong, right.

If he could.

If it wasn't already too late.

* * *

By the time Iolaus arrived in Corinth in the late afternoon of his eighth day on the road, he was a wreck. He hadn't slept more than a couple of hours each night, and those hours had been haunted by nightmares of Herc and Xena together, of Herc denouncing him to the magistrate, of Malthius dead. Nor had he eaten more than was absolutely necessary to keep his energy from flagging. Oddly enough, he found he just wasn't hungry. So, he'd lost weight, was pale and had dark hollows beginning to smudge the skin below his eyes. Emotionally, he didn't know where he was at, ranging from desolate despair, wondering how he could be whole without Hercules beside him, to rage at the betrayal, though whether his own or Herc's he was less and less clear, knowing only he couldn't ever face the demigod again.

And, all the while, he tried to keep the fires of his emotions banked down, smoldering under the surface where no one could see them, trying to keep a cold front of control, so his eyes remained flat and empty, except when he wasn't thinking about it...and then the fires flared until he once again enclosed them with ice.

He strode past the guards, unchallenged as he was known to be an old friend of the King, and on into the castle, heading up a sweeping staircase to the personal quarters where he knew Jason was likely to be found at that time of day. Servants who would normally have greeted him, offering refreshment, enquiring as to whether he'd be staying so as to prepare his chamber, took one look at his face and held back, wondering what disaster had overtaken him, to make him look so ravaged. Most of them had known him for years, and knew the cold control had to be a cloak hiding more turbulent emotions. Nor were they slow to note he was alone. Normally, he and Hercules arrived together, so they wondered if something had happened to the demigod...wondered and worried.

Jason was in his study, reviewing what seemed to him to be endless scrolls documenting sailings, trade missions, import and export balances, records of harvest, military fitness reports...gods, he loathed the endless sheets of parchment that filled his days. A lot about being a King was simply deadly dull monotony. When Iolaus strode in, Jason looked up with relief, heartily glad of the distraction, until he took in his friend's appearance. Iolaus had an almost predatory look, his stance and gait projecting a message of anger barely contained. But, what chilled Jason was the flat look in Iolaus' eyes, a coldness he had never seen there before. Frowning, he looked past Iolaus, fully expecting Hercules to walk in behind him, but Iolaus was alone. The warrior nodded tightly as he entered and made his way to his favourite chair across the desk from Jason, settling into it stiffly, leaning against its back as if exhausted.

Frowning, Jason asked with a troubled expression, his voice low, "Gods, what happened to you? Where's Hercules?"

Iolaus' empty eyes gazed unflinchingly back into Jason's as he shrugged, his voice flat as he answered, "I don't know where he is, nor do I much care."

Jason sat back, startled by the bitterness of the response. Gods, what could have led to this? "Iolaus...you look like Tarturus." That comment brought a slightly rattled approximation of a chuckle from Iolaus, who shook his head, figuring Jason was no doubt right. He felt like he was trapped in an empty, hopeless existence and he couldn't see a way out, except to keep moving, to keep busy and distracted, to keep himself from thinking, remembering...from feeling as if he was drowning in despair or burning with rage.

When Iolaus didn't answer, just bit his lip as he stared at the floor, his fingers beating a restless tattoo on the carved wooden arm of the chair, Jason stood and went to the sideboard by the window, poured a goblet of rich, red wine and carried it back to his friend. "Drink this," he commanded, and when Iolaus took the goblet, Jason pulled another chair up close and then sat, leaning forward toward his friend.

Iolaus stared at the goblet for a moment, then raised it to his lips, taking a long swallow, letting it wash the dust of travel from his mouth, feeling the warmth of it penetrate his body. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, then cast Jason a sideways look as he said, "I'm looking for work, Jase, and wondered if you have something for me, or if you know if one of your allies could use a sturdy and experienced warrior."

The King of Corinth leaned back in his chair and studied Iolaus, waiting to learn what Iolaus would tell him in his own good time. As the silence lengthened, Iolaus looked up at him, his brows arching over those empty eyes when he saw Jason staring at him. "What?" the warrior asked.

"You tell me," Jason responded quietly, concern in his eyes. Something was very wrong here.

Iolaus swallowed as he swung his head away, sighing a little, knowing he had to explain. Part of him wanted to unburden himself to Jason. Other than Hercules, Jase was the oldest friend he had. But, he hesitated, wondering how Jason would react...wondering if he wanted to accuse Hercules of betrayal to someone who was also the demigod's friend, when Herc wasn't here to give his side...wondering if he could talk about it at all, without the rage of betrayal boiling over. Maybe, if he just kept the accounting sparse, made no accusations, just told what had happened and let Jason draw his own conclusions, maybe he could get through it. He looked back at the King, who was still waiting, knowing Iolaus couldn't, and wouldn't, be pushed.

"Okay," the warrior said finally, his voice low and tight. "Hercules and I have had a falling out. It's... complicated."

"I imagine it is," Jason replied dryly, with only the slightest tinge of irony in his voice.

"Yeah, well, you know what happened with Xena a year ago," Iolaus began, casting a quick look up at Jason. When the King nodded silently, his face impassive, the younger man continued, unable to keep all trace of bitterness out of his voice, "Well, Xena has changed, sworn off her mission to conquer all of Greece, and is on the side of the angels now, fighting evil and oppression. Why she changed is another story and I don't really want to go into it all just now. Anyway, almost two weeks ago, I found her and Hercules together."

Iolaus paused again, his face turned away so that Jason couldn't see the expression in his eyes.

"Together?" the King enquired, his voice carefully neutral, "as in 'lovers'?"

Iolaus swallowed and nodded. "Well, I guess it shouldn't have been a surprise." His voice caught a bit, and he took a deep breath, pushing the pain of it away, continuing dispassionately, "Anyway, Xena took off on her own, and before Hercules and I could talk about it, we came upon bandits attacking a merchant and his family. During the fight, Hercules got distracted and left my back uncovered without letting me know. It was a near thing...I almost took a spear in the back before I realized he'd moved off."

Jason was watching him closely, thinking the incident during the fight was no more than an accident. But, the King had the feeling that Iolaus had skimmed over the episode with Xena a little too lightly. The King knew how deeply Iolaus had felt he'd betrayed Hercules, how much he'd hated himself as much or more than he had hated Xena for allowing himself to be deceived. But, he had loved Xena, and given all that had happened, finding Hercules with her had to have just about destroyed him. No wonder he looked as if his heart had been ripped from his body.

Iolaus paused again, took a deep breath and continued his recounting of events, carefully keeping his voice devoid of emotion. "Anyway, after the battle, we headed into the nearby town, and learned about a warlord who had been terrorizing the area. Turned out, I knew the guy from the days when we'd been on the streets, when we were kids. I owed him, and asked for the chance to bring him in without a fight. The local magistrate gave me two days. But, my...friend...wasn't about to give himself up, and before I could steal away from the camp, a spy from the town blew the whistle on me and I was taken captive."

When Iolaus stopped and took a sip of wine, Jason just nodded to indicate he was taking it all in, and encouraged quietly, "Go on."

Iolaus looked up at the ceiling, keeping a tight rein on his emotions, and on his voice tone, as he continued flatly, "Well, I managed to get loose by dawn, but the magistrate had decided to attack a day early. I was caught between the two warring factions, both sides believing I was on the other side. It was...a little hectic until the captain of the soldiers realized I was on their side and gave me cover. Hercules didn't arrive until the fighting was almost over. I have no idea what kept him. By that time, my friend, Malthius, had been killed in the battle. Anyway, when I blasted the magistrate for betraying his agreement with me, he said that when Hercules told him I'd been a thief in a gang with Malthius years ago, he'd decided he couldn't trust me, and decided to attack early. He said Hercules had agreed with him." Iolaus paused a moment more, tightening the rein on his emotions, then finished, "I got mad and left...and here I am, looking for work."

Jason was frowning by the time Iolaus finished his emotionless recounting of events, not needing the colour of anger and hurt to know his old friend felt those things...felt betrayed and baffled as to why. He rubbed his chin for a moment, considering all that had occurred, then asked, "How did Hercules react when the magistrate said he'd agreed you couldn't be trusted?"

Iolaus looked at the floor, as he replied quietly, "He said I didn't understand...he was right, I didn't."

"Why didn't you let him explain?" Jason pushed, wondering if Iolaus really believed Hercules had betrayed him at that point, or if he had really still been reacting to what had happened with Xena.

Iolaus sighed, leaning back in his chair, swirling the wine in the goblet. Finally, he looked back at Jason as he answered, "I wasn't thinking straight, Jase...I didn't know whether I felt demolished or furious. I wanted to slug Hercules for denouncing me, leaving me to fend for myself when the soldiers attacked, and for having agreed to it in the first place. I couldn't believe he'd...do that." Iolaus was not going to accuse Hercules of betraying him, not even at that point.

"I can't believe it, either," Jason replied bluntly, leaning forward. "Iolaus, it doesn't make any sense. You know he would never have gone along with anyone suggesting you can't be trusted...as to why he wasn't there, well, there must have been a good reason. There's no way Hercules would ever leave you in that kind of potential danger voluntarily. You know that."

"I thought I knew it, Jason, but I'm no longer so sure. It's like he doesn't see me anymore, like he takes me so much for granted that he forgets I'm even there. He's either indifferent, or he despises me. Frankly, I don't know what to think. If it had only been the one incident, I'd have demanded an explanation...but, it had been a bad week," Iolaus replied, his voice weary.

"Uh huh," Jason replied, watching him narrowly, "that's what it's all about, isn't it? Xena? That's what really got to you, and made you ready to believe Hercules would betray you. Finding him with her is eating at you like some kind of acid. You can't stand the thought of the two of them together."

Iolaus flashed him a look, but quickly turned away, shrugging, "Maybe...does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters. It means that out of three incidents you've built up in your mind, one is likely no more than an accident, thoughtless maybe, but not intentional, and another is probably a misunderstanding. That only leaves one incident where Hercules acted without regard to your feelings. And, if you realize that," Jason continued remorselessly, "then, by running, by abandoning him, you're taking your own revenge for what he did with her. I'm not saying you don't have a right to be furious with him, but I'd venture to say he's been chasing after you ever since you disappeared. I doubt he has the least idea of why you took off, and is probably completely baffled as to why you never even let him explain."

Iolaus had gone very still at Jason's words, realizing he'd never considered the perspective Jason had just given him, realizing that he'd perhaps been wrong about Herc having betrayed him to the magistrate, and he felt a brief flare of hope. But, he couldn't accept it, he was just too tired and confused, too worn down to think it through, and he had more than half convinced himself that Hercules no longer cared about or respected him. His sense of worth had been trashed and he was trying to hold onto some measure of himself by holding onto his rage,

And, he couldn't face actually hearing that Hercules didn't care about him anymore.

Because, if he did, he didn't know if he'd ever recover from the blow.

So, it was better to avoid Hercules, better to never see him again, better to just get on with his life than have his soul completely crushed.

Besides, at this point, he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't just haul off and belt Hercules...which wasn't likely to improve things between them any. No, better to just keep moving.

And, then, there was the fact that he'd started it all himself in the first place...that it was all, ultimately, his own fault. Shifting uncomfortably, he decided he needed to explain that to Jason.

"You don't understand, Jason...I deserved it," Iolaus sighed, as he rubbed a weary hand over his face. "I'm the one who betrayed Hercules, a year ago now. He tried to let it go, I guess, but having Xena come back must have made it all fresh again." Iolaus looked away, then finished, his voice dull, lifeless, "I don't believe that Herc trusts me anymore...and, frankly, I honestly don't think he really cares any more if I live or die."

"Iolaus, that's just plain ridiculous!" Jason protested, appalled by what he was hearing, by what Iolaus had convinced himself was the truth. "You can't really believe all that nonsense...."

But, Iolaus just took another long swallow of the wine, not trusting his voice to respond.

The silence stretched between them, and Jason's heart clenched at the pain he saw in Iolaus' face, before his friend again shut his emotions away. It was frightening to see that relentless closing down, that flat, cold look in a man who was always burning with energy, his eyes dancing, his smile brighter than any sun.

'By the gods, he really believes Hercules no longer cares about him...has willfully betrayed him,' Jason thought, wondering how he could break through and make Iolaus see sense, but knowing that Iolaus had good reason for his sense of betrayal. Hercules had betrayed him, perhaps not three times, perhaps only once...but wasn't once enough?

Jason just didn't believe for one minute the demigod had meant it. Hercules had probably not even thought about what he was doing until it was over and too late. Jase had seen Xena once, and even from a distance, even hating her for threatening Corinth, he'd felt her passion, was affected by her beauty. It was no mystery to him that both of his best friends had found her irresistible, each in their own time, for their own reasons.

Finally, Iolaus looked at him, deciding to just ignore Jason's last observation, not able to deal with it "So, do you have any work here, or know of someone who could use my help?" he asked, his voice thin and tight, "Or shall I just be on my way?"

Jason was about to refuse, when he realized that Iolaus desperately needed to know he still had some value, could make a difference on his own. Being turned away now, or being given boring and routine duties to perform would only reinforce his own fears that he was worthless, good to no one without Hercules around to give him worth. Maybe if he could recover some of his confidence, then he'd be able to face Hercules again, and clear up this mess.

"As it happens, I've just heard from King Evanteus in Argos. There have been two attempts on his life, and he no longer trusts anyone in his own court. He's asked me to send him someone I'd trust with my own life. I can't think of anyone that better describes than you," Jason finally responded.

Iolaus looked back at Jason, touched by his words. Which wasn't a good thing. The warmth of friendship would only melt the ice, and then he'd be in real trouble. He took a shuddering breath to steady himself, then replied, "Thanks, Jase. If you give me a letter, I'll be on my way."

Frowning, Jason shook his head, "Iolaus, you're obviously exhausted. Stay here tonight, rest...there's time enough to head out in the morning."

The younger man responded with one tight shake of his head, "No, thanks...I have to keep moving. I need something to do, something else to think about. Please, Jase... just give me the letter."

The King turned his head away, wanting to refuse, but afraid that if he did, Iolaus would just leave anyway. At least if he sent him to Evanteus, he'd know where the warrior was. "Alright, providing you agree to return here once you've sorted out the problem in Argos."

"Fine," Iolaus agreed wearily. He'd agree to anything that let him escape. He didn't know why he felt so restless, didn't fully understand himself that he was running from his own feelings, only to find he couldn't escape them. Maybe, if he'd accepted Jason's offer, and gotten some rest, he'd have been able to get some perspective, been able to shake off his obsessive, driving need to just 'get away'. But, he was trapped within his own interpretation of what had happened, certain he was right, and unable to stop long enough to question it. The emotions he was fighting so hard to control were controlling him.

Jason rose and pulled a fresh piece of parchment toward him, dipped the plumed pen into the moist cake of ink on his desk, and wrote the letter of introduction for Iolaus to carry with him. Finished, he scattered some sand across the surface to dry the ink, then rolled it, sealed it with wax and his mark, and turned to hand it to Iolaus, who had already stood, waiting for it.

Iolaus tucked the scroll into his pack, then gripped Jason's arm, "Thanks, Jason." For a moment, gratitude shone in his eyes, gratitude for the trust Jason was showing him, the confidence Jase still had in him. But, then, the spark was gone, clamped down like all his other emotions.

Before Jason could respond, Iolaus turned and almost loped away, anxious to once more be on the move, running from what he couldn't face.

* * *

Hercules had been pushing hard, desperate to catch up with his friend, and was less than a day's march from Corinth when he knew he had to stop, if only for a few hours, to get some rest. It had been dark for hours now, and he'd been on the go for more than three days with breaks only for water, or to get a quick meal from a tavern or village market, usually something he could carry and eat as he walked. But, even a demigod had to sleep sometime.

* * *

Iolaus had been reluctant to stop, but Argos was just too far to go without getting some rest, particularly since he hadn't slept now for more than two days. He made himself a cold camp, curling up under the shelter of some pines near a stream in the hills leading up to the city state. Exhausted, he'd sunk into sleep as soon as his head hit the ground, but as was usual, he woke again after only a few hours of restless oblivion. Dawn was streaking the sky as he laid looking up through the boughs, listening to the wind sough quietly, the call of birds waking, the rustle of night creatures seeking their shelter from the light. Gods, he was tired.

He thought again of what Jason had said, of how the King had been certain that Hercules had not been responsible for what had happened at the outlaws' camp. Iolaus rubbed his forehead, wishing his headache would ease up, then pushed his fingers impatiently through his hair. Jason had figured that Hercules was chasing after him, and Iolaus wondered if that was true...and if it was, how he'd react when he saw his best friend again. Would his anger boil over, or would he be relieved, knowing that if Hercules was chasing after him, then it must mean that somehow Iolaus still mattered to him? Could he trust the demigod again? Or had too much happened, too much hurt? Could he overcome his own shame, his own sense of worthlessness?

Iolaus wanted to hope that Herc was coming after him, but was afraid to, in case he wasn't. But, he really didn't know how to face Hercules, didn't know how to get past the belief that his buddy had let him down, badly, had not cared about him when it mattered. Hadn't been there when Iolaus had really needed him...and whether he deserved or not, Herc's abandonment of him, his betrayal, made Iolaus want to lash out at him, pound him for the hurt and humiliation of it. Impatiently, he rolled to his feet, grabbed up his pack and, hitching it over his shoulder, he set out on the final stage to Argos, not able to think about it anymore. Not yet willing to risk letting his emotions loose.

* * *

Hercules was up again before the dawn, striding quickly, often breaking into a long, loping run, feeling a sense of increasing urgency to catch up with his best friend. He felt a raw guilt that he had driven Iolaus away, and a hollow fear that his friend wasn't thinking straight, was taking too many risks. Fear that it might only be a matter of time before Iolaus bought into more trouble than he could handle alone. But, every time that harrowing possibility rose in his mind, Hercules shut it away, refusing to even consider what might happen. Iolaus was alright. He was headed to Corinth, and Jason would hold onto him long enough for Hercules to catch up. In just a few more hours, he could straighten this mess out, even if he had to hold Iolaus down while he explained.

It was just coming onto noon, the sun almost at its zenith, when Hercules loped through the castle courtyard, past the guards without really even seeing them and into the fortress, heading toward the private dining room, figuring Jason would be taking his mid-day meal. For the second time in as many days, the servants watched a pale hero stride unseeing through the halls. They whispered amongst themselves, wondering what had happened to upset the two heroes, and to have left the King so thoughtful last night after Iolaus had left the castle.

Unaware of their unsettled glances, their worried speculation that something horrendous was happening, or had happened, Hercules swept past, almost at a run. He pulled up as he entered the dining room, desperately hoping he'd see Iolaus there, and his heart plummeted when he found Jason alone. Gods, he'd been certain Iolaus was heading here. Where could he be?

Jason looked up, not surprised to see the demigod, figuring it was only a matter of time before he showed up. Hercules had stopped short in the doorway, looking devastated, and Jason could guess why. He'd been hoping to find Iolaus here. The King waved the demigod forward, and signalled to a servant to pour a goblet of wine for his old friend, and then silently indicated the servant should leave them alone.

Hercules moved slowly into the room, almost like a man in a daze. He slumped exhausted into a chair at the table, not touching the wine. "Has he been here?" he asked, "Iolaus, I mean...has he been here recently?"

"I knew who you meant the first time," Jason responded, with a slight frown. "Yes, he was here yesterday for a little while, but I couldn't get him to stay. He's...not in very good shape."

His eyes shifting away from the accusation he could see in Jason's eyes, Hercules winced at the words, and sighed with the realization that he was going to have to keep tracking his friend. Looking back at Jason, he enquired hopefully, "Did he say where he was headed?"

Jason nodded, taking a sip of water. When he didn't immediately answer, Hercules pushed, "Well?"

"I'm wondering whether I should tell you," Jason responded thoughtfully.

Anger flashed in the demigod's eyes. He didn't need this, not now. Impatiently, he seethed, "I'm not in the mood for games, Jason. I need to find him as quickly as possible. He doesn't understand...."

"No, he told me he didn't understand why you'd been acting the way you had," Jason cut in, his voice flat. "He kept his accounting pretty spartan, and he seems afraid to show or express any emotion, afraid of losing control, but he relayed the facts about Xena, the battle to protect some anonymous merchant, and that some magistrate told him you agreed he couldn't be trusted. Quite a litany, Hercules...I don't blame him for taking off. I'm surprised he didn't slug you first."

Hercules slumped back in the chair, his eyes down, as he let out a long breath and then bit his lip. Finally, looking back at Jason, pushing unconscious fingers through his hair, he shook his head a little as he replied, "I never meant to hurt him...the magistrate lied, and the merchant was an accident. I...don't know how to explain what happened with Xena."

Jason shook his head as he responded dryly, his voice deep and a little rough, "You don't have to explain, Hercules...I can imagine what happened. And why. I know you don't always understand the impact of what you do, but that was unbelievably selfish, even for you. It would have been kinder to knock Iolaus into next week than to have let him find the two of you together. You were way out of line."

"I know," Hercules breathed softly, looking away. Jason studied the demigod, fully believing that Hercules deeply regretted, and felt very guilty about, all that had happened. The three of them had known each other so well, for so long, they could read one another like open books. He could understand Hercules every bit as well as he'd understood Iolaus yesterday, not needing to hear the words.

"Iolaus is bitterly angry, and he doesn't really know what to think at this point. To be honest, he's not thinking at all, just reacting. Bottom line, I think he's afraid to see you again," Jason continued with a sigh. "Afraid to hear you really have finished with him. Afraid that he's really as worthless as he's always believed...that he deserves to have lost your trust, deserves to have you turn against him. He thinks you no longer care if he lives or dies, and typical Iolaus, he thinks it's all his own fault."

Herc's head snapped back at that, and he said urgently, "Jason, you have to tell me where to find him. I can't let him go on thinking...feeling that. I'm the one who acted badly. I owe him an apology and I need to ask him to forgive me." Hercules paused a moment, and when Jason still didn't respond, he pushed, desperate to know, "Look, I'm afraid he's heading into trouble...I learned that he took unbelievable risks on his way here. People who saw him said he looked like someone who didn't care if he lived or died."

Remembering how Iolaus had looked, Jason nodded, as he seconded the impressions Hercules had gotten from other people. "Well, that's true enough. He didn't look like he'd slept or eaten for days, and he's strung tighter than a bow. It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge."

Hercules stared at him for a long moment in appalled silence. Iolaus was reckless at the best of times. He'd get himself into real trouble if this didn't get sorted out soon. His throat tight, he asked again, "Jason, please...I have to find him."

Jason looked away, wondering what was best. Should he give Iolaus time to find himself, to find some measure of pride and confidence in himself, find his own balance? Or, was Hercules right? Was Iolaus a danger to himself right now, and would continue to be until he and Hercules could work out what had happened? He found himself studying the demigod, thinking Hercules looked every bit as wrecked, maybe even worse, than Iolaus had looked. Gods, the two of them hurt one another more than anyone else ever could. He wanted Hercules to remain at the castle and rest, just as he had wanted Iolaus to do the same, but he knew the man before him now was every bit as driven as the one who had fled from his presence yesterday. Finally, he gave in, knowing there was really no other choice.

"Alright," he agreed quietly, "I've sent him to Argos. The king there believes someone in his court is trying to kill him and had asked me to send someone I could trust without reservation to figure out what's going on. Hercules," he raised his voice as the demigod lunged to his feet, ready to head out immediately, "Wait! I've decided to go with you."

"Jason, you don't have to...." Hercules raised his hands in protest, but Jason cut him off.

"Yes, I think I do. Iolaus will think I betrayed him, too, if you just show up on your own, knowing I sent you after him. He's badly hurt, Hercules. I understand that you need to go after him, to explain. But, if you demand more from him than he's ready to give, if you push too hard before he's ready, he'll just run again. It may go easier if I'm there to mediate between the two of you."

Hercules looked away, swallowing hard as he came to grips with the fact that Jason was right. Gods, that it had come to this, needing someone to mediate between them. He closed his eyes, then nodded tightly. "Thanks, Jason," he murmured.

* * *

The warrior was approaching the gates of Argos just as Hercules was arriving in Corinth, still a full day ahead of his friend.

Iolaus showed his letter of passage to the guards on the gate, and one escorted him into the King's presence, in the throne room where Evanteus had been hearing petitions from his subjects. King Evanteus was a strongly built man in the prime of his life, but the worried look in his eyes was unmistakable. He read the scroll from Jason, and then looked up at Iolaus, whom he knew from earlier encounters. He, like Jason, had no hesitation in trusting the diminutive warrior standing before him, and knew that Iolaus was much more formidable than he looked. In fact, the King thought studying him, Iolaus looked a lot more dangerous than he had a couple of years ago. "Will Hercules be coming as well?" he asked, knowing the two warriors seldom split up unless they had to deal with separate demands for help.

Iolaus looked away, not sure how to answer. Deciding to trust that Jason was right, he nodded briefly as he looked back at the King, "Yes, he'll likely be here in the next day or so, unless something holds him up."

It was an answer that could be right either way. If Hercules never showed up, the King wouldn't think anything of it, and Iolaus sure wasn't about to begin explaining why he wasn't entirely certain where Hercules was at that point. King Evanteus accepted his words, engrossed in his own concerns, simply glad that someone he could trust had come to help him sort out what was going on in his court. Evanteus didn't know Iolaus well enough to draw any conclusions, or even to wonder, about the younger man's almost brittle manner or empty eyes.

"Walk with me," the King said, as he stood and led the way from the busy throne room to his more private chambers. He didn't want their conversation overheard. Closing the door behind them, Evanteus waved Iolaus to a chair and took one across from him. He sat silently for a moment, gathering his thoughts, wishing he didn't have to expose his vulnerability to another, but knowing he had no choice.

Iolaus could see the turmoil on the King's face, and pitied him, knowing kings found it hard to admit to disloyalty in their own ranks. "Jason told me someone was trying to kill you," Iolaus said quietly, giving the man a place to begin.

Evanteus looked up at him, his gaze sharp, then he nodded and sighed, realizing that Iolaus wasn't his enemy. Indeed, at this point, the blond warrior was the one man he could trust. "Yes, twice now. Once, when I was hunting, I was almost taken by an arrow. I thought it was only a shot gone wild, an accident. But, the next day, a piece of masonry fell from the fortress heights, nearly striking me down as I walked in the garden. It would have killed me, no question about it. One might have been an accident. Two near misses are more than I can overlook."

Iolaus nodded, in full agreement. He didn't believe in coincidences, or accidents, not when they nearly resulted in the death of a king. "Who do you suspect?" he asked, knowing the King had to have his own ideas about what was happening, about who was the traitor. It had to be someone close for the man to be so reluctant to act on his suspicions.

Evanteus looked away, his face drawn, his eyes haunted. He didn't like what he was thinking, and he didn't want to be right, but no other answer seemed to make any sense. "I believe Telimedes is behind it. I think he must want the throne."

Iolaus sat back, frowning deeply. "That's hard to believe. Tel has never been interested in being king," he said, his voice troubled. He knew the King's brother, had known him for years. The man was a fine warrior, brave, but he loathed the sense of being tied down, and steered clear of long term responsibilities. So far as Iolaus had ever known, Tel loved his brother, and was content to support him with his strong right arm.

Evanteus nodded wearily, "I know...I find it equally hard to believe. But, I don't know what else to think. If I was killed, as my closest male relative, he would become king." Evanteus' only son had not survived childhood, and his wife had died giving birth to his daughter, Justina, who was now a young woman of twenty. He'd never wanted to marry again, had never really gotten over missing a wife he'd loved with all his heart. Justina was his joy, delicate, beautiful...sweet. But, as a woman, she'd never be allowed to rule in Argos, and his line would pass either to his brother or die out unless Justina married, her husband assuming leadership as the next male relative in line.

Iolaus remembered the daughter vaguely, a pretty little thing. "Has Justina married since I was last here?"

"No," Evanteus sighed, "she's refused to even consider any of the princes, younger sons in their own houses, who have come to vie for her hand."

Not a husband, then, ambitious for the throne. "An enemy, maybe," Iolaus ventured, "someone who has penetrated close enough to murder you, so as to make Argos weak, ready to be plundered in the confusion following your death?"

Evanteus rubbed a hand over his face, and shrugged. "Maybe, I suppose it's possible, but I've no idea who it could be. We've not been at war for some time...there's no particular enemy to suspect."

"Doesn't mean there isn't one," Iolaus mused. "I'll watch and listen, check out those who have the run of the castle and who would also have been able to get close on the hunting trip. Was there anyone absent who should have been present when either of these incidents occurred?"

Evanteus looked at him, the pain clear in his eyes. "Tel was supposed to go hunting with me, but begged off, saying he didn't feel well. To be honest, he didn't look well that morning, but he seemed fine when we returned. The next morning, he was supposed to meet me in the gardens, but he claimed he'd overslept."

"Uh huh," Iolaus grunted quietly, beginning to understand why the King was afraid that it was his much beloved younger brother who was trying to kill him. "Give me a day or so to try to figure out what's going on."

Evanteus nodded, then recollected himself, remembering to offer courtesy to the man who'd come to hopefully save his life. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

"No," Iolaus responded, "not recently."

"Then, come with me," Evanteus replied. "I was about to take my own meal when you arrived."

The two men headed back out of the chamber, and down a hallway lit by flickering torches, cool even in the heat of the day, to a large refectory with a table that could seat a score of people laden with food to tempt the King's increasingly fickle appetites. The princess was already there, and she looked up with a warm smile for her father when he walked in, her gaze clouding with puzzlement as she noted the younger man with him, knowing he looked familiar.

"This is Iolaus, my dear," Evanteus introduced the warrior. "You may remember meeting him with Hercules a few years ago."

"Ah, yes, of course," Justina smiled warmly in welcome. "It's good to see you again." She had a vague memory of the man, largely because she'd found him attractive and fun. Of course, it was Hercules who had solved those earlier problems, this one just a friend who tagged along, but still, she remembered he was amusing, if harmless. Gazing at him now, she thought he looked more subdued now than she remembered him being the last time they'd met.

The King waved Iolaus to a seat as he took his chair at the head of the table. Iolaus had summoned up a grin for the girl, thinking she'd grown even more beautiful than he remembered. There was a sweetness about her, an innocence that was soothing to his frazzled, torn, heart. "Iolaus will be visiting for a few days. He's an old friend, as you know, my child, and I've given him the run of the castle while he's here."

Iolaus shot a quick look at Evanteus, realizing that he was trying to protect his daughter from knowing that he feared for his life, not wanting to cause her anxiety or make her afraid on his behalf. Well, Iolaus was prepared to go along with the charade, so long as it didn't compromise his mission. "I can see that I've been away too long," he said charmingly to the young woman, with a smile that didn't quite light his eyes. "You've grown only more beautiful, Justina."

She blushed and dimpled prettily, murmuring as if confused by his praise, "Thank you...you're very kind."

Iolaus shook his head as he reached for a piece of bread and some cheese, not really hungry but knowing he needed nourishment. "No, I'm not kind at all," he teased. "Just very honest," he added owlishly, with exaggerated solemnity, drawing a laugh from the other two, as he'd intended. Just then, Tel entered the hall, smiling as he recognized Iolaus, coming around the table to grip his forearm in welcome.

"Iolaus! This is a wonderful surprise! What brings you to Argos?" he asked, his eyes dancing. He and Iolaus had a history of some great parties and even greater brawls. They'd been friends a long time.

"Oh, I was just passing by and realized I hadn't been here for far too long. I've missed you Tel," Iolaus replied, letting some of the honest friendliness he felt for this man ease past the ice that held his heart, just enough to be credible, not enough to lose control. Gods, he hoped Evanteus was wrong about his brother.

Tel pulled up a chair, and before long the three men were lost in reminisces, laughing as they recalled one incident after another. All the while that he joked and laughed, Iolaus' eyes remained hard, and he felt as if he was observing himself play a role. Forgotten, Justina watched, smiling at their pretended good humour, content to remain silent, but well aware of the tensions just under the surface.

* * *

Iolaus spent the remainder of the afternoon and early evening, before the late dinner, chatting up guards and servants who trusted him, having met him the last time he'd stayed in Argos, or whom he quite simply charmed into unguarded conversation. But, he learned nothing he didn't already know. Oh, some of the more observant had noted the assaults on the King, recognizing them for the threats they were, but denied any idea of who was behind it. Apparently casual remarks about Tel's absence from the hunt revealed their suspicions, but they weren't prepared to be any more clear, no matter how charming Iolaus pretended to be. But, it was enough.

Disturbed, he went out into the garden for some air before the meal was announced. It was probably a mistake. Alone, undistracted by other matters, his thoughts inevitably returned to Hercules and what had happened between them.

"You look sad," Justina said, stepping from the shadows.

Startled, Iolaus looked up at her, and tried to deny what she'd observed. "No...just a little tired. I've been on the road for several weeks."

She nodded, unconvinced, but willing to allow him his excuses. "Where is your friend, Hercules?" she asked, unwittingly stumbling into the source of his distress. She saw the quick flash of pain before his eyes were once again masked, not giving anything away.

"Oh, he got caught up on another matter. He may join me here," Iolaus replied vaguely, looking away.

Justina might be young, but as innocent and sweet as she appeared, she was no fool. Perceptive, used to reading others, she suspected there was a story here, that somehow something was wrong between these legendary friends. "Do you miss him?" she asked, softly, watching.

Iolaus hesitated, then forced a smile, "Hardly...it's not been that long since I last saw him."

"How long has it been?" she persisted.

Shrugging, Iolaus looked away, "Oh, a week or so, I guess. Not long." But, there was a strained note, a certain flatness in the nonchalance he tried to project.

She sat down close beside him on the stone bench, deciding to take the chance. She reached out a gentle hand, resting it lightly on his arm, as she said very softly, "You're lying. Something's wrong."

Iolaus flinched at the unexpected assault. Gentle as it was, her salvo had hit the mark. He bit his lip, then looked at her, vulnerable to her kindness. "Well, yeah..." he sighed, "We've had a misunderstanding. But, I'm sure we'll work it out...it's nothing for someone as kind and sweet as you are to worry about. But, thank you for your concern."

"Don't thank me," she protested quietly, "you're easy to be concerned about. Now," she reached for his hand and stood, drawing him up with her, "it's time for dinner."

Soothed by her gentleness, Iolaus followed her back into the castle.

* * *

Hercules had hustled Jason along, not wanting to lose any more time than necessary, while the King made arrangements for his absence. In retaliation, Jason insisted that they ride horses, pointing out with a dry reasonableness that it would allow them to travel that much faster. Hercules cast a baleful look at the noble steed chosen for him, but finally mounted silently. He could outrun a horse over a reasonable distance on a good day. But, he'd been running almost flat out for a week now, and Argos was a little too far to keep pace with Jason without a mount of his own. With a sigh, he decided that riding a horse was a small price to pay to cover the distance to Argos in record time. It was taking too long to catch up to Iolaus, his buddy always remaining one step ahead, always a day out of reach. Tired as he was, he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he saw Iolaus again, and reassured himself that his buddy was safe. With grim determination, he ignored his weariness and kicked his mount into motion, leading Jason along the darkening trail that cut across the plains toward the hills of Argos.

* * *

The next day, Iolaus was leaning in the shadows of the inner wall of the fortress, not far from the gates, watching the Captain of the Guard, Daros, assisting Justina to mount her palfrey. The princess looked like she was about to head out for a solitary ride. Though he couldn't hear the words, it seemed the captain was protesting that she shouldn't go out on her own, no doubt making the point that the hills were full of bandits, and that it was not safe for a lovely young woman, let alone a princess who could be ransomed, to be out on her own. She seemed a tad impatient as she listened, but finally allowed him to prevail upon her. Calling to one of his subordinates, Daros waited until a mount was brought for him. They'd been silent as they waited, Justina sitting proudly upon her mare, and Daros standing slightly turned away from her, appearing for all the world to be relaxed, simply waiting for his own horse, his face empty of any particular expression.

The blond warrior rubbed a hand over his mouth, wondering what it was that was bothering him about this little vignette. And, then, he straightened with a thoughtful frown, biting his lip as he wondered if he was imagining things. It did look like a 'vignette', an act carefully played out of the imperious princess and the conscientious Captain of the King's Guard. But, was their behaviour perhaps a little too studied? Or, was she just irritated at his overprotectiveness and he was just refusing to rise to her ire, determined to do his duty in ensuring her protection. He shook his head. There was no way of knowing. Not yet.

Daros had mounted, and their horses were moving in a slow walk toward the gates, when they were all distracted by the sudden, unexpected arrival of two horsemen, dusty from a long ride.

Iolaus froze, then stepped from the shadows. "Jason," he called, his voice tight. With neither word nor glance did he acknowledge the demigod's presence.

Hercules turned at the sound of his friend's voice and visibly let his tension go, almost appearing to sag with relief. Justina noted the reaction, frowning a little as she thought about what it meant. Daros had stiffened a bit in the saddle, but seemed to relax a moment after he heard Iolaus call out the well known name, recognizing the King of Corinth.

Hercules dropped from his mount and started across the courtyard toward his friend, not really conscious of anyone else, certainly unaware that he was virtually snubbing the princess of the castle, while Jason stopped briefly to pay his respects to his ally's daughter. Iolaus looked past his friend's shoulder, catching Justina studying them both. She returned his gaze a moment, then smiled encouragingly before kicking her mount, heading out of the gates, Daros close behind her.

"What are you doing here?" Iolaus asked, his voice hard. Cold. And, there was a latent threat in his eyes, warning Hercules not to get too close.

Hercules stopped as if Iolaus had physically struck him. He looked away, uneasy, then back as he admitted, "Looking for you."

Iolaus gazed at him, carefully keeping all expression from his eyes. "Well, you've found me, and now you can go," he said flatly. Then, silently, he turned away, heading across the castle compound toward Jason.

"Iolaus," Hercules protested, calling after him, "I need to talk to you."

Iolaus paused, but didn't turn back to face the demigod. Finally, he replied quietly, his voice tight, "Not here, not now."

"I'm not leaving until we talk," the larger man declared, his tone stubborn and determined.

Iolaus looked up at the sky for a moment, then his head dropped. He turned back reluctantly, knowing Hercules meant it, but not wanting to face it all yet, not sure he was able to deal with all the mixed up feelings inside. "I don't want to talk about it, Hercules, not yet anyway," he said with a voice that was deadly quiet. "I can't make you leave if you won't go. But, if you're going to stay, you're going to act like everything's fine between us. I want to find out who's trying to kill Evanteus, and the two of you can make yourselves useful by helping me."

"Fine," Hercules agreed, willing to accept any terms on which Iolaus agreed to speak to him. He'd find his moment to say what needed to be said.

But, Iolaus had already turned to face Jason who had ridden over to join them. He met Iolaus' angry stare with a bland expression and a slight shrug of his shoulders, then dismounted, handing the reins to a groom who'd appeared at his side.

"I thought you said you trusted me to handle this on my own," Iolaus challenged, hostility thinly veiled by the rigid control he held on his voice.

Jason looked around the fortress walls, and then back to Iolaus as he responded, "I did, and I do. I have no doubt of your capacity to help Evanteus discover what is going on. But, your buddy here was determined to find you, and I thought it might be wise to come along."

Iolaus looked away briefly, obviously trying to hold onto his temper, wanting to do nothing so much as order them both back to Corinth. Realizing he had no way of making them comply with his wishes, and deciding he had no choice but to make the best of it, Iolaus nodded, cocked his head a little, indicating they should follow him, and led the way back to the castle. Once inside, he continued leading silently until they came to a small chamber off the hall, where they could speak quietly, undisturbed and not overheard.

Closing the door, Iolaus waved them toward the chairs. "Evanteus thinks Tel is trying to kill him," he started in with no preamble, keeping the conversation impersonal. In a few brief sentences, he shared what he'd learned so far, which regrettably, wasn't much more than the King's suspicions, and those of others who had noted what was going on.

Herc leaned back in his chair, frowning as he thought about it. "I can't believe Tel would try to kill Evanteus," he said, looking up at Iolaus who was still standing stiffly by the door, looking as if he was prepared to bolt at any moment.

Jason nodded in thoughtful agreement, "I've known Tel all my life. He'd die before he betrayed his brother."

Iolaus relaxed a little when he saw that they were both going to abide by his terms, keeping the conversation equally impersonal. Nodding, he moved into the room, taking a chair some distance away from his two old friends. "I know," he agreed, "I have trouble believing it myself. But, so far, I haven't found any better suspects."

The estranged friends sat in silence, considering the problem. Or, at least, pretending that that's what they were thinking about. Jason just watched both of them, wondering who would crack first.

Finally, Hercules broke the silence. "Iolaus, I..."

But, his friend was warned by the tone of his voice, and knew Hercules was about to broach the subject of what had happened between them. Standing, Iolaus cut him off, saying briskly, "We'd better find chambers for you and get you both settled if you're going to be here for a few days."

Herc sighed as he watched his friend cross the room and open the door. He glanced toward Jason who was frowning at him in sad annoyance, shaking his head. Hercules swallowed his desire to demand that Iolaus listen to him, and standing, he and Jason quietly followed Iolaus into the dim hallway beyond. Hercules didn't know how long he could put off talking about it, but Jason laid a calming hand on his arm briefly, signalling that now was not the time. Jason knew that Hercules wanted to heal the rift between them, and couldn't stand the pain they could both read in Iolaus' rigid posture and cold eyes, but Iolaus was not ready to listen. Hercules bit his lip, frowning at Iolaus' back. He knew his buddy well, and knew that it was only when he was hurting too bad to deal with it that Iolaus resorted to such extreme control to lock everything he felt deep inside.

Stricken, Hercules realized the last time he'd seen Iolaus this remote was years ago, when Iolaus had had to deal with Skouros' abuse. His friend had pretended everything was fine, denying any problems, needing to push deep the helpless anger and desperate grief he felt at being beaten by a father he'd wanted so much to love him...needing to hold a tenuous control while he tried to hide the shame of knowing he was too worthless to love.

Herc felt sick at the thought that, this time, it wasn't Skouros who had caused Iolaus such pain. No, Hercules knew he had done this to the one person whom he'd rather die for than ever hurt.

* * *

Evanteus and Tel were unreserved in their joy at seeing Hercules and Jason join them for the evening meal. Justina, however, was as cool toward Hercules as she was charming to Jason, and there was no question that she was flirting with Iolaus. Her doting father and uncle didn't notice, but the three old comrades were only too aware given the tension that already existed between them. Iolaus was charming to her in his turn, avoiding Herc's eyes, and Hercules remained courteous, but both wondered why she seemed intent upon feeding the estrangement between them. Jason did his bit to keep what felt like an increasingly heavy conversation going, reminiscing with Evanteus and Telimedes, drawing each of his friends into the conversation when they seemed to drift too long, lost in their own thoughts.

At first, Iolaus was touched by Justina's innocent, almost childlike championing of his cause, realizing she had somehow decided that Hercules was at fault for whatever problem existed between them. But, again, he was caught by the sense that she was playing a role, almost too perfect, too ingenuous. She was a princess in a household that was often at war, and she was no fool. She'd certainly seen through him fast enough the evening before...seeing more than most ever saw. So, she had to know her father's life had been threatened, but she gave no sign, playing out the empty-headed, if gentle, role her father and uncle assigned to her.

Iolaus thought again about his observation of her that afternoon in the courtyard, and he replayed the image of her discussion with Daros in his mind. The Captain of the Guard wasn't a lot older than her, and wasn't hard to look at. Dark brooding features, a tall, well muscled frame, an air of confidence...even as Iolaus flirted back during the meal, chuckling with apparent good humour at Tel's jokes, he wondered. Did she suspect that he was there to find out who had been attacking her father? Was she trying to distract him by sharpening the conflict she sensed between himself and Hercules? Trying to lull him with kindness?

Hercules was also watching her covertly, wondering at her evident hostility. So far as he knew there was no reason for it, unless she was trying to pit him and Iolaus against each other by favouring one and ignoring the other. Herc was no expert in the wiles of women, but he'd seen this game often enough to recognize it. And, while he was very familiar with the kind of effect Iolaus had on women, he felt a curious lack of warmth in her manner, though her behaviours suggested a strong, if naive, attraction. Something felt off. Glancing at Iolaus, seeing the question flickering briefly in his buddy's eyes when she turned away to say something to her father, he knew that Iolaus had sensed it, too.

Was she playing with them, thinking them too insensitive and unaware to notice? Or, was she what she appeared to be, an innocent, protected and much beloved princess who was intrigued by a handsome stranger?

After the late meal and the conversation that continued long after, they excused themselves and headed up a narrow winding stone staircase cut into the thick stone of the fortress wall, to the floor above where their chambers were located. When Iolaus reached his door, he pushed it open, turning a moment to glance either way down the hall to ensure they were alone in that part of the castle, before he moved into the room.

Jason entered the room behind Iolaus, but Hercules leaned against the doorframe, reluctant to enter, to push too hard into Iolaus' space. When his buddy turned to face them, his face shadowed in the limited light thrown by the candle on the table by the bed, Hercules asked quietly, "So...do we have another suspect?"

Iolaus nodded, "I think maybe we do."

Jason looked from one to the other. "Does somebody want to fill me in?" he asked, wondering what they'd seen that he had missed.

Iolaus turned to Jason, explaining, "It's Justina."

"Justina!" Jason objected. "She's little more than a child."

"Oh, she's all grown up," Iolaus countered, a slightly cynical look on his face. "Something doesn't feel right...I noticed it earlier, just before you arrived, when she was apparently arguing with the Captain of the Guard, Daros, until she gave in and allowed him to accompany her on her ride. It was too contrived. She's too smart to want to ride out without escort...it was as if they wanted any observers to be clear that they don't like each other much."

"Well, she certainly seems to like you," Herc mused, his eyes teasing a little, trying for their old comraderie and easy understanding.

Iolaus unbent enough to give him a ghost of a smile, "Yeah, but she sure doesn't seem to like you much."

"So, you're the good guy and I'm the bad guy. You want to play it out and see where it goes?" Herc asked.

Nodding, Iolaus replied, "Right now, she thinks we're both fooled, that she's in control of the game. It'll be interesting to see where she takes it. How about you convey a little obvious suspicion, start to make her nervous. I'll cast the evil eye on Daros...they won't know if it's because I suspect them, or if I've fallen for her line and am just being jealous."

"Okay," Hercules agreed with the strategy.

"What part do you want me to play?" Jason asked, not about to be left out of the action, but also wanting Iolaus to retain the lead in the investigation.

Iolaus turned back to him, with a thoughtful expression. "For now," he said quietly, "I'd like you to stick close to Evanteus. Until we know what's going on, he's in danger."

Jason nodded agreeably, and turned to the door. "Well, it's late, I'm going to turn in," he said as he moved past Hercules, giving the demigod a direct look that clearly said it was time for him to say goodnight as well. But, Hercules just took a step into the room, to let Jason pass him into the corridor, pretending to have not gotten the King's message. "'Night, Jason," he said meaningfully, making it clear that he wanted a few minutes alone with Iolaus.

Jason sighed, but took his leave. They were big boys and he couldn't protect them from one another all the time. But, he was certain Hercules was making a mistake.

Hercules paused a moment, then decided he had to try again. Iolaus had been talking with them almost like old times, almost as if everything was alright...almost, but not quite. An anxious look on his face, his eyes troubled, he ventured, "Iolaus," but he got no further.

"I told you, Hercules...not here, not now. If you don't mind, I'm tired," Iolaus intervened, his voice tight, all traces of normalcy gone. The demigod felt as if the temperature in the castle had dropped dramatically and he couldn't stand it. They had to deal with this. Hercules moved into the room and Iolaus turned away from him. Frustrated, the demigod grabbed his friend's arm to turn him back, and it was like something cracked in Iolaus.

"Let me go," Iolaus warned, his voice low and dangerous as he tried to pull away.

But, Hercules wasn't letting go, not this time. He tugged on Iolaus' arm, wanting his friend to face him, as he said again, "We need to talk...."

The tenuous control Iolaus held on his emotions slipped and the fury that simmered so close under the surface ripped through him. He whipped around, putting all his strength and weight into the blow he landed on Herc's jaw, knocking the demigod back, causing him to stagger off balance.

Hercules' hand went to his jaw, and for a moment, his eyes darkened with his own anger. He breathed deeply, getting himself under control, then quietly asked, "Feel better now?"

Iolaus just looked at him, his eyes empty and cold, and shook his head tightly. "No," he said hoarsely, "get out."

"Alright," the demigod agreed, shocked by the fury that had driven Iolaus' attack. Clearly, they weren't going to get anywhere tonight and, he admitted to himself, Jason had been right. He needed to do this his buddy's way, when his friend was ready. Heading back into the hall, he murmured back over his shoulder, "But, soon...."

"Maybe," Iolaus replied, as he closed the door.

As he leaned back against the door, listening to Hercules move across the hall to his own chamber, Iolaus took a deep breath and ran trembling fingers through his hair. He couldn't believe he'd just struck Herc with unbridled fury. Gods, he hadn't done that since...Xena. Iolaus shook his head and bit his lip, feeling sick. He couldn't believe that Herc was the partner, the friend, Iolaus had always believed him to be. Not now. Not after Xena. With a sinking heart, he realized that he wasn't the partner Herc had had either, and if anything, that shook him even more.

In his own room, it was taking everything Hercules had not to punch his fist through the wall.

* * *

Carefully courteous to one another when they met in the dining room the next morning, they started their stratagem with Hercules casting overtly suspicious glances at Justina. At the same time, Iolaus pretended to be oblivious to Herc's dark looks as he chatted and charmed her, more flirtatious than he'd been up until now, as if he was falling for her. Hercules, feeling her gaze upon him, cast his buddy a disgusted look, to reinforce the impression that he thought Iolaus a fool to believe she was interested in him.

In truth, the game made the two warriors increasingly uncomfortable. There was something about it, an echo of their respective histories with Xena, that lent an added tension to the behaviour between them, unconsciously reinforcing Justina's assessment that she was pitting them against one another. But, it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with the fact that Iolaus had been taken in by Xena, despite Herc's warnings at the time. Once again, Iolaus was cast in the part of the guy who was being deceived, while Hercules was the clear-sighted one, understanding that the woman in question couldn't possibly be interested in his friend...or, at least, that's the way Iolaus felt.

Jason had resumed his role of keeping Evanteus occupied, following the King from the dining room, saying something about wanting to talk to him about some trade matters. When Tel stood to leave, Iolaus rose to go with him, asking Tel if he had a few minutes to show Iolaus the weapons he'd acquired in the time since they'd last seen each other. Unwilling to be left alone with the glowering demigod, Justina rose immediately to follow them from the chamber, heading off to undertake her own chores for the day.

Hercules gave her a minute, then followed along behind, apparently tailing her in an inexpert fashion, so that she was aware that she had a shadow. She pretended not to notice him, but he was making her nervous. Nevertheless, she carried on as if blythely unaware of his presence in the shadows, lingering in the garden, cutting blooms for the table and the hall. Then, she met with the cook, to discuss the meals for that day and the next, taking out her keys to the pantry to share out the necessary supplies, every bit the mistress of the castle. Later, she went to the stables for her daily ride out over the countryside. Hercules leaned against the stone wall of the fortress, not far from the entrance to the stables, where he could see and hear whatever transpired.

Daros cast him a puzzled look as he led out his own mount, as if this time he'd anticipated that the princess would once again be planning to head out on her own. Once again, she appeared impatient with him, denouncing him for his over-concern, in a voice just loud enough to carry. He bowed his head, accepting her diatribe with equitable humour, clearly ignoring her, intending to ride out with her nonetheless, every inch the man who knew his duty and was prepared to do it, despite the abuse.

Iolaus entered the scene from another direction, casting a dark look at Daros, taking up Justina's part, suggesting the soldier was a bit too forward, a bit too solicitous, and maybe someone else, himself perhaps, should accompany Justina on her ride. Daros rose to his full height, considerably taller than Iolaus, if not quite as tall as Hercules, and coldly informed the smaller man that he knew his duty and would carry it out...implying, clearly, that Iolaus had overstepped his mark and had made ridiculous assertions about Daros' behaviour toward the princess he was sworn to protect. The angry flash in his eyes also suggested he was more than unhappy about Iolaus' apparent interest in the princess, and would like nothing better than an excuse to beat the smaller man into the dust.

'Nothing like a little jealousy to get things going,' Iolaus thought with no little satisfaction.

Justina, intervened, seeming to be flustered by their behaviour, nervous that the two men might actually come to blows, and conveyed her concern that Iolaus would no doubt be hurt in such an altercation. Her manner insinuating that she only wanted to save the smaller man injury to both body and pride, she grudgingly gave way to Daros' declaration that it was his duty to ride with her, and he intended to carry it out.

Iolaus played out the part of the concerned suitor, reluctantly giving in to her. Hercules remained in the shadows, his arms crossed, not bothering to pretend...he was glaring at her, resenting on Iolaus' behalf her evident contempt for Iolaus' capacity to wipe the floor with the haughty soldier. She felt his ire, felt the threat he conveyed, and kicked her horse sharply, wanting to escape the suspicious glare. Daros mounted quickly and followed her out of the castle's gate without a backward glance.

The two heroes surreptitiously gazed around the busy courtyard, noting which soldiers had followed the little drama, trying to read which ones were with Daros and which were loyal to the King...because neither of them had any lingering doubt that something was going on between Justina and Daros. They exchanged one quick, knowing glance, then Iolaus turned and headed away, clearly not wanting Hercules to follow him.

Herc watched him go, his heart aching. He couldn't let this go on much longer. It was ridiculous. Iolaus had to know that he'd never deliberately hurt him, never willfully betray him. But, Iolaus didn't seem to know it...seemed, in fact, to believe he couldn't trust Hercules anymore.

And, frustrated, feeling guilty, Herc bit his lip, lowering his head, his shoulders slumped against the wall. 'Gods,' he wondered, 'will he ever forgive me?'

* * *

Iolaus went in search of the King, wondering how much he could tell him at this point. There was no proof, just supposition, and he knew Evanteus would not readily accept that it was his sweet, innocent, loving daughter who was plotting against him. Still, it was important that the King accept that he could trust Tel, and should keep both his brother and Jason close in the event of more trouble.

Finding the King in his study chatting comfortably with Jason, Iolaus closed the door to ensure they weren't interrupted. Evanteus looked up, curious. When the warrior turned to face him, the King read indecision on his face. "Have you learned something?" he asked, holding his control close, in case Iolaus confirmed that it was his brother who was trying to kill him.

Iolaus nodded. "I think so, but I haven't any proof yet." He paused, then looked the King in the eye, as he continued, "But, I have learned enough to be certain that Tel is not behind this. He's being framed, so that if something happens to you, he'll be the obvious suspect. If he can't defend himself, he'll never be accepted as King by the guards who are loyal to you." 'Or by those loyal to Daros,' he thought silently. He had no doubt that if Evanteus was killed, Telimedes' life would be forfeit.

Wanting to believe the warrior he trusted, but unable to imagine who else could be engineering the attacks on his life, Evanteus challenged, "But, how do you explain Tel's thin excuses for not being with me, where he was supposed to be, when the attacks occurred?"

Iolaus shrugged. He'd talked with Tel after breakfast that morning, saying that he'd heard the man had been ill recently and enquiring as to whether he had shaken off whatever had ailed him. Telimedes had answered innocently enough, never suspecting that Iolaus was fishing for information. Oh, he knew it was rumoured that he'd caused the attacks, if he hadn't actually perpetrated them himself, but he was confident that Iolaus would never believe him capable of harming his brother. Accordingly, he'd explained that it had been nothing serious, probably just mild food poisoning in the first instance, and a simple question of having overslept in the second.

"I think he was drugged," Iolaus replied, looking from Evanteus to Jason and back. "Whoever is behind this is both devious and dangerous. They're being very careful to cover their tracks and to make him look guilty."

Evanteus sat back, rubbing his chin as he thought about it. "You're sure he's not the one," he pushed, needing to be certain.

"I'm sure," Iolaus affirmed confidently. "Tel has never been anything but loyal to you. He's not the one who is the traitor."

Evanteus turned to Jason, who nodded in confirmation of Iolaus' assessment. "Iolaus is right, Evanteus. Tel would never betray your trust in him."

The King of Argos visibly relaxed, as if a great weight had been removed from his shoulders. The anxiety that had haunted his eyes cleared, relieved to know he could still trust his much loved brother. Jason couldn't hide his frown of concern as he shifted his gaze to Iolaus. The blond warrior shook his head slightly. This was not the time to share their concerns about the princess with the King. They just didn't know enough yet, and there was no profit in maligning her until they were sure. Iolaus regretted the easy smile that graced the King's face, and looked away, knowing that if he was right about his suspicions of Justina, the man would be devastated by the truth.

However, Evanteus was so heartened by this glad news that he didn't notice Jason and Iolaus' disquiet. He slapped his hands down on his desk and stood, coming around to clap Iolaus on the shoulder. "Thank you," he said, sincerely grateful, jovial in his relief, then turned to include Jason in his good spirits. "We're going to celebrate this news! What do you say to a hunt tomorrow? We'll set out early."

Iolaus looked up at the older man, thinking about it, then glanced at Jason who shrugged, leaving the decision to Iolaus. There would be some danger, but with him, Jason and Hercules around, as well as Telimedes, they should be able to protect the King. And, it might force some action on the part of those who were guilty. Iolaus wished he had a better idea of who was loyal in the cohort of guards. Deciding he'd ask Tel, and trust the man's judgment, he nodded. "Alright...we might flush more than a deer."

A thoughtful look crossed the King's face, and then he, too, nodded. It was time to finish this. Time to find out the truth.

Jason followed Iolaus out of Evanteus' study, pacing along quietly beside him until they came to a small, unoccupied anteroom far enough down the hall not to be overheard.

"Iolaus...I'd like to talk to you," Jason said, lightly taking Iolaus' arm and nodding his head toward the chamber.

The warrior stiffened for a moment, then nodded, preceding Jason into the room, where he turned to face the King, one brow raised in enquiry, waiting, not making it easy.

Jason sighed heavily, wondering why he'd volunteered to put himself in the middle of this. "Hercules is sorry...."

"Jason," Iolaus cut in, "this isn't really your concern."

"Oh, yes it is!" Jason responded, glad to be able to speak definitively about something in all of this. "The two of you are my best and oldest friends. I'm not prepared to just stand aside and watch the two of you throw away the friendship of a lifetime."

Iolaus took a deep breath, lowering his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, fine. I appreciate your concern," he said flatly. "But, this is between Hercules and me."

"Alright," Jason said equitably, refusing to rise to the anger he sensed in Iolaus. "So, when did you plan to work this out with him? Surely the fact that he's trailed you all the way here convinces you that you're wrong in believing he no longer respects or cares about you. The ball's in your court, Iolaus. I suggest you deal with this before you really do drive him away."

Iolaus cut a sharp look up at Jason at those words, wishing he could find a way past the fury that blazed just under the surface, but he couldn't, not yet. But, Jason's words made him pause, realizing that he couldn't just let it fester forever. His hands on his hips, he gave a short, curt nod as he looked away, saying quietly, "Alright, I'll think about it."

"Well, that's a start," Jason sighed as he turned to head back out into the hallway. Looking back over his shoulder just before leaving the room, he added, "But, I suggest you not think too long before you at least give him a chance to explain. Once you've heard what he has to say, you can think some more, if need be. But, I'm hoping that hearing him out will be enough. He is sorry, Iolaus...he didn't mean to hurt you."

Jason didn't wait for a reply, didn't expect one. Iolaus watched him walk away, chewing on his lip as he thought about what Jason had said, wondering why he couldn't seem to get past the anger. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to remember all that had happened, and all that he'd felt, to try to sort it all out. As images and memories flashed through his mind, one took hold and he stiffened, running fingers through his hair. "Ah, gods..." he murmured, his face twisted with an aching sorrow, realizing finally what was really at the bottom of his anger and pain.

* * *

Evanteus was a new man at dinner that night. The anxiety was gone, the lingering worry and doubt whenever he had looked at his brother had vanished as if it had never been. It wasn't the fact that someone was trying to kill him that had bothered him. Kings got used to being a target. It was the idea of it being Tel who had betrayed him that had unnerved him. Justina couldn't help but notice the difference, and wondered at it. But, consummate actress that she was, she hid it well. As much as possible, she avoided Hercules' dark gaze, focusing her attention on his blond partner, as if trying to ensure that she drove the wedge between them ever deeper.

"Tel, what do you say we go hunting in the morning?" Evanteus asked, beaming. It was the first time he'd made such an offer since the day the arrow had almost taken him.

Telimedes looked up, surprised and then a light of pleasure graced his face as he realized what the invitation, and the look in his brother's eyes, meant. Evanteus trusted him again, completely.

"Absolutely!" he agreed, eager to get back to their old comfortable relationship.

Hercules was also startled by the idea, lifting his gaze from Justina to look between Iolaus and Evanteus, understanding that Iolaus must have cleared Tel in the King's mind. Iolaus, however, wasn't looking at the King. He was gazing at Tel, at the expression of incandescent joy on his face, and the warrior looked almost stricken by it, understanding so well what Tel was feeling, wishing the rift with his own 'brother' could be as easily mended. Recovering himself, he swallowed hard, reaching for his goblet of wine to hide his expression and to lower his eyes so that the naked pain in them could not be read.

But, Hercules had seen the look on Iolaus' face, the pain glittering in his eyes and had fully understood it. Shared it in that he, too, wished they could get back what they'd had. Not for the first time, he cursed his own weakness, knowing the passing satisfaction of his liaison with Xena was not worth this price. He'd give just about anything to take that pain from his friend's eyes, hating the fact that he'd been the one who had put it there. He felt irritated, out of sorts that he didn't know what else he could do, didn't know how to get Iolaus to at least listen to him. It was frustrating, and getting to be irritating.

Evanteus and Telimedes were too pleased with the return of the trust between them to notice the tensions at the table.

But, Justina noticed, and wondered.

Jason also noticed, and his heart ached for his two friends, wondering how he might help them get past the wall Iolaus had built around himself. But, to keep others from picking up on the tensions between them, Jason launched into the tale of the last hunt he'd gone on with Evanteus and his brother. The other two laughed and objected, but Jason carried on, describing how they'd bravely tracked a cow through the forest.

Laughing with the rest, setting his goblet down, fully in control again, Iolaus glanced at Hercules before turning to Tel and Evanteus. "A hunt's a great idea...we haven't been out in the forest together for far too many years," he endorsed Evanteus' idea. With a grin toward Jason, he teased, "Besides, roast cow makes a pretty good meal!"

Hercules was more pensive, not so sure that this idea was wise. There was too much that could not be controlled in the dimness of the forest, too much that could be concealed in the shadows. He looked up at Justina, and found her staring at him. He shot a challenging glance at her as he lifted his own goblet. "I agree," he said quietly, letting some of his bottled up irritation lace through his words. "It's long past time we all went hunting together."

Iolaus glanced quickly at Justina and saw that Herc's shot had gone home. He had to hide his grin at the success they were having in rattling her irritating equaminity. She was the vixen they were hunting, and Daros was the fox. When she turned her glance to him, he smiled brightly at her, asking lightly, "You won't mind if we all disappear for a while tomorrow, will you, Justina?"

She returned his smile with one equally bright, as she replied, "Not at all. I think it sounds a wonderful idea." Then, she, too, reached for her wine.

As Iolaus held his smile, and launched into one of his amusing stories, he thought to himself that he and Justina were two of a kind...they could both fake just about anything.

The thought brought him no comfort.

Jason also caught the byplay, and glanced quickly at Hercules, seeing him turn again to gaze at Iolaus, an odd look in his eyes as he watched his friend chatter away charmingly as if he hadn't a care in the world.

* * *

Jason followed Hercules up to his chamber that night, concerned about the tension he felt emanating from the demigod. Herc pushed open the door to his room, saying "Good night" a little abruptly, only to have Jason follow him into his chamber.

"Not so fast," Jason said. "I think we need to talk."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not the one around here who is refusing to have a conversation," Hercules growled, turning away to pace his room.

Jason cocked a brow at the anger in his friend's voice, and closed the door so that they'd not be overheard.

"What are you so angry about, Hercules?" he asked mildly, leaning against the door, his arms crossed, a sardonic look on his face.

Hercules threw him an irritated look, heaved a heavy, dramatic sigh, then ceased his restless pacing to face his old friend. "I'd like to wring his neck," Hercules grated.

Jason couldn't restrain the grin that played around his lips. "I assume you mean Iolaus?" he clarified.

"Who else would I mean?" Hercules almost shouted, then visibly took back control of himself. "He acts as if I murdered his grandmother! Gods, Jason, enough is enough. I've tried to explain, tried to apologize, but he won't let me near him, won't listen. I've just about had it with his sulking."

'I see," Jason murmured. "Not used to having him mad at you, are you? Not used to being the one who's behaved thoughtlessly?"

Hercules glared at Jason, then turned away to resume his pacing. "What am I supposed to do?" he muttered. "Get down on my knees?" His furious tone made it clear that suggestion was made for sarcastic purposes only.

Jason rubbed his nose and then his chin. He'd rarely seen Hercules so helplessly angry, so uncertain as to what to do. Sighing, he stood away from the door, and moved to take Hercules by a reluctant arm, to drag him over to a chair, and then pushed the demigod into it.

"Sit, and calm down," Jason directed, his voice firm. "Did you think this was going to be easy? That you'd just stroll in and say, 'hey, sorry buddy,' and Iolaus would fall all over himself forgiving you, telling you not to worry about it? Well, this time it's not that simple, Hercules."

The demigod looked away, his shoulders rigid, his hair covering his face as he stared at the floor, not saying anything for a long moment. Then, quietly, he murmured, "I don't know what to do, Jason. I'm afraid he's never going to forgive me. And, I can't stand it."

'I know," Jason said comfortably as he moved away. When he'd reached the door, he turned back, saying with a slight tone of sadness, "This time you've really hurt him badly, Hercules, and he's afraid to let down his guard, afraid to trust you again. You're going to have to give him time, let him get used to the idea that you're there for him, that you always will be. Be patient, or you really will lose him this time."

Jason turned and opened the door, closing it quietly behind him as he left. Hercules stared at the closed door for a long time, thinking about what Jason had said.

* * *

The day was still fresh when they set out the next morning, the sun lighting the east, the sky above a clear pearl blue. Dew glittered on the grass, and the air was sweet and cool. Twelve men headed into the forest, King Evanteus and his brother, Iolaus and his estranged partner, the King of Corinth, and six guards Tel had chosen the night before at Iolaus' quiet request. Two of the guards moved ahead, taking the roll of beaters, while another lingered behind, keeping a watch on their back trail. He carried the few supplies that everyone hoped wouldn't be needed, but it was foolhardy to set out on a hunt without a few bandages, a small flask of wine to cleanse any wounds and a small pouch of healing herbs. Accidents happened, but it wasn't an accident they all worried about.

The twelfth man had not been picked, but it was his place to come. He was Captain of the Guard, responsible for the King's safety, and it would have been impossible to leave him behind. Besides, Iolaus and Hercules felt better having him where they could see him. Daros took point, ostensibly scouting the trail ahead, as he led them deeper into the dark forest.

Hercules walked on one side of Evanteus, Tel on the other, Jason a little in front and Iolaus just behind. Along with the tall soldiers around them, the King was well covered by able men. As the morning progressed with no untoward incident, they all began to relax a little, enjoying the clear day and the freedom of the forest.

Then, Daros called softly, "Sire, a buck!" as he pointed off to the south. Eager, oblivious to the suspicions harboured by Iolaus, Hercules and Jason, Evanteus picked up his pace, moving out of position as he looked to see the game Daros had spotted. Hercules moved with him, alert to danger while Iolaus scanned the forest. It was the sudden whoosh of sound, like a heavy wind, that lifted his head.

'Gods!' he thought as he shouted out, "Hercules!" The demigod didn't need anything more. Lunging forward, he pushed Evanteus hard, driving him to the ground.

But, that just left the demigod in the path of the fast driving log, suspended by thick vines, crashing through a narrow path between the trees, rushing toward him. Herc twisted, trying to get out of the way, but it caught him hard in the chest, ploughing him inexorably ahead, lifting him from his feet, driving him back against a wide, sturdy tree, crushing him.

Hercules cried out unconsciously at the sudden, sharp pain that drove through his body, low in his left shoulder, and then he was flying, helpless to stop himself, the agony blinding as he was crushed by the heavy, fast moving log against the sturdy, immovable tree.

The log rocked back, and there was another blaze of hot pain in his shoulder. He tried to gasp for air, but his chest felt battered, the muscles not responding. Darkness rushed over him and he crumpled to the ground at the foot of the tree he'd been crushed against.

Iolaus had watched helplessly, unable to stop the horror from happening. A hunter, he'd recognized the sound of the rigged battering ram mechanism that was set to fall when it's snare was triggered. It wasn't a common weapon, but poachers were known to rig them over known deer trails. Later, when they were dragging the body of their kill from the woods, if they were caught, they could claim they'd found the beast dead of some accident, and in the absence of any wounds by arrows or spears, their guilt could not be proven.

The demigod's sharp cry as the log hit him, and the muffled scream as it swung back, like a hideous pendelum, cut through Iolaus' heart. He was running before Hercules was crushed into the tree, but wasn't close enough to catch Herc before he fell. He saw the spurt of blood from his friend's shoulder like some kaleidoscope of fractured colour and confusing images. And, then, he was on his knees, alarmed by the blood he saw seeping from the back of Herc's shoulder, as he pulled Hercules over, keeping low under the swinging ram.

"By the gods," he whispered, when he saw the ugly, gaping wound that was pulsing out blood at an alarming rate. "I need bandages," he yelled, as he ripped Herc's vest and cambric shirt from his belt and bunched them up over the wound, putting on as much pressure as he could. Linen bandages appeared in front of his eyes, and he grabbed them, making a pad to hold behind Herc's shoulder, unceremoniously grabbing a soldier's hand to hold it in place while he worked on the more ragged wound above Herc's heart.

His buddy's breathing was shallow and rough, so Iolaus, with Jason's help, propped him up in a sitting position against the tree to help him draw in air. Tel and Evanteus had grabbed the swinging log, steadying it until it hung quietly, no longer a threat. Both men blanched when they saw the long serrated blade sticking out of the end of the ram, now covered in blood...Hercules' blood. Their eyes met, realizing this had been no accident, but a trap set for them, to kill the King.

"Easy, Herc," Iolaus murmured over and over as he worked, all thought of their estrangement forgotten, "easy, buddy, you're going to be okay." He pulled the pressure pad back, frowning with fear when he saw the blood still boiling from the wound. An artery had been cut. "Get a fire going!" he called out. "I need to cauterize this before we move him."

Turning to the guard with the medicine pack, he demanded the flask of wine, and after the man had unstoppered it, Iolaus poured it into the wound, then replaced the pressure pad, leaning his weight upon it.

Hercules had winced at the sting of the wine, the new fire in the wound bringing him back to semiconsciousness. He blinked, trying to focus, trying to remember what had happened. Iolaus' face was close to his as his friend worked over him. Iolaus looked worried, as he kept up the constant, soothing litany under his breath. "You'll be okay, Herc...you'll be okay...."

Hercules was finding it hard to breathe, his chest rebelling with every inhalation. He wanted to lift his hand to Iolaus' shoulder, to tell his buddy not to worry, but he couldn't seem to get coordinated. Finally, he gave up the struggle to move, settling for a whisper instead, "Iolaus?"

Iolaus' eyes flew to Herc's, his heart twisting at the blurred look of pain and disorientation. "Shhh, don't try to talk yet. You tripped a snare, and got caught by a battering ram trap. But, you'll be okay," Iolaus babbled, his voice shaking. Even through the pain, Hercules felt a distant relief to see that the cold, flat look was gone, replaced by honest, heartfelt concern.

The smell of smoke filled the area, and soon after a red hot knife was held out to Iolaus. He swallowed as he took it, one hand still keeping a pressure on the wound. "Heat another for his back," he said, as he caught Herc's eyes with his own. "I'm sorry, buddy...this is going to hurt like Tarturus," he murmured.

Hercules frowned, then understood, nodding weakly. Iolaus turned to Jason who had dropped to one knee beside him, his own worry reflected in his grim expression. "Give him something to bite on," the blond warrior commanded, "and hold him steady." As soon as Jason had gathered up a small stick and placed it in the demigod's mouth, and had a good grip on the demigod's right shoulder, Iolaus pulled off the pressure dressing and applied the fiery knife to the wound.

Hercules arced as he tried to hold back the scream that rose to his throat, reducing it to a groan of agony. Jason grimaced with sympathy as he slipped an arm around Hercules' shoulders, holding him steady. The demigod's eyes pressed shut against the pain, holding in tears he couldn't suppress. Iolaus bit his lip as he pulled the knife away, dropping it as he called for the herbs and clean bandages. Powdering the wound lightly, he pressed on the new dressing, securing it with a long strip of cloth that he wound around Herc's body and shoulder while Jason supported the demigod.

"How're you doing?" Iolaus asked softly as he worked, his eyes flicking to Herc's. The hero returned his look through lids narrowed in pain, as he panted for breath. 'Gods, I wish he'd pass out,' Iolaus thought, then said aloud, "I'm going to pull you forward, against me, so that I can get to the wound on your back. I'm sorry, Herc...but, this is going to hurt as much as the last one did."

Hercules nodded weakly, signalling his understanding, still gripping the stick between his teeth. Jason moved back as Iolaus eased Hercules forward, then held out his hand for the second white hot knife, pulled the bandage away and seared the wound in one smooth movement. He felt Hercules lurch against him, and he held the demigod securely with his free arm around Herc's other shoulder. "Easy, buddy," he said as he pulled the blade away, "almost done."

Jason helped bandage the second wound while Iolaus held onto Hercules, his friend's head having fallen forward on his shoulder, their cheeks resting against one another. Iolaus could feel Herc's tears of pain on his own face. Finally, the bandage was in place.

The others had been busy while Iolaus had worked over his friend, and had put together a sturdy litter from branches and pine boughs, lashing them together with vines pulled from the trees. Iolaus eased Hercules back against the tree trunk, watching him closely, listening to his rough breathing. Gingerly, he felt his buddy's chest, sides and back, terrified of finding crushed ribs.

But, the demigod's strength had stood him in good stead. His bones had withstood the crushing pressure, cracking maybe, but not breaking under the onslaught, not shattering to lacerate muscle and lungs. Iolaus let out a long breath of relief. Herc had spit out the stick and was watching him blearily, finding a measure of comfort in the relief on Iolaus' face. "Not broken?" he murmured, surprised, given how hard it was to breathe.

"No," Iolaus looked up with a wan grin as he shook his head once, "battered for sure, but not broken. You got off lucky, Herc." He'd spoken in a low voice that only the demigod and Jason could hear.

"Easy for you...to say," the demigod whispered, feeling his awareness drift away.

Iolaus gazed at him, worried when Hercules passed out, but relieved too, that his buddy wouldn't feel the pain of being shifted and transported back to the castle. Jason took his arm, pulling him up, out of the way of the soldiers who lifted Herc onto the litter. Tel moved over to stand beside them to get their attention, then drew them both back to look at the ram. When Iolaus saw the blade, his gut clenched. This wasn't the usual hunting trap, far from it, and that ugly blade made it definite that this was no accident. Jason blanched with the same realization. Fury flaming in his heart, Iolaus looked up and around, wondering for the first time since Hercules had been hit by the ram where Daros was.

Iolaus spotted him standing close by, supervising the work of the soldiers who were moving the demigod, and lashing him securely onto the litter. When Daros glanced up and caught Iolaus' eyes, he was in no doubt of the message blazing there. The look in Iolaus' eyes promised that he'd pay for what had just happened. Though Daros now knew without a doubt that Iolaus was on to him, he turned away, as if he hadn't understood, hadn't noticed the blond warrior's fury and silent threat.

It was all coming apart. As Daros stared down at Hercules, thinking the demigod was mortally wounded with ribs that had to have been crushed by the blow, he figured that this one was out of commission, unlikely to wake again. Glancing at the King of Corinth, Daros wondered what part he played in all of this, if any. Frowning thoughtfully, Daros looked at Evanteus and his brother, realizing they had no awareness of what the truth was. He might be able to hold it together if he could get rid of the runt, which shouldn't be all that difficult. He just had to do it before Iolaus felt compelled to share his suspicions with the King or his idiot brother.

Gazing back at Iolaus, he figured there was still time. The man would be reluctant to make accusations without proof...and so far at least, there wasn't any.

* * *

Iolaus stood by the window in Herc's chamber, gazing down into the courtyard as he listened to his friend breathing. He relaxed as he realized it was easing as the muscles that had spasmed from the crushing blow were loosening. Once they'd gotten Hercules back to the castle, the healer had hovered near by, having brought the necessary supplies, but Iolaus wasn't prepared to let anyone else take charge of his friend, not until he'd assured himself that Hercules would recover with no ill effects. Iolaus had changed the dressing, checking for signs of infection, and had heaved a sigh of relief that the wound seemed clean. Herc's natural resilience, resistance to disease and healing power was working as well as ever. Once they were assured that Hercules was stable, Iolaus had turned away, moving to the window and the healer had left to report to the King.

Jason came to stand beside him, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, saying quietly, "He's going to be all right."

Iolaus nodded, grateful for Jason's presence. Swallowing, the warrior said quietly, "I've been a fool, Jason. I realized that out there this morning. If he'd died...."

His eyes warm with compassion, Jason squeezed Iolaus' shoulder, his voice a kind rumble as he replied, "You had reason to be angry, Iolaus..."

But, the warrior turned, cutting him off, a haunted look in his eyes. "Did I, Jase?" he asked, "Or was it all just an excuse? Was I angry with him for betraying me...or just plain jealous that he could so easily have what I had wanted so badly?" Iolaus' voice caught, and he turned his face away, ashamed to admit that underneath it all, he'd been hurt most of all by the realization that he'd never know Xena's honest affection.

Jason's eyes searched his friend's face, frowning slightly as he wondered how to respond to that, but whatever he might have said was interrupted when Evanteus, Tel and the healer entered the chamber quietly, moving to stand by the bed, feeling deep regret at the hero's injury, knowing that if they had not been so keen to go hunting, it would never have happened.

Iolaus had glanced at them quickly when they'd entered, then turned back to stare out the window, wondering how much he could tell them yet, and wished he had more evidence to give them than his gut feelings. Still, he needed to give them some warning.

Without turning, he said quietly, "It wasn't an accident. Whoever is behind this knew we were going to be out there, and rigged it to get to you, Evanteus."

Evanteus frowned in response, shaking his head, "I don't see how that's possible. How could anyone know where we'd be?"

"They'd know if they were leading us," Iolaus replied. He paused a moment, then continued, "I think Daros is involved in the plot." Turning back from the window, he saw the shock on their faces. This was something they had never considered.

"Are you certain?" Tel asked, looking from Iolaus to Jason.

The King of Corinth nodded sagely as Iolaus replied, his eyes on Hercules. "Yeah...the three of us have our suspicions about what's going down, but until we have more proof, it's all just speculation. But, don't trust Daros. And...let people think Herc is more badly hurt than he is, let them think he's dying. Aside from the five of us, I don't want anyone to know the truth."

Evanteus gazed at him, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You think he could be attacked again, while he's helpless to defend himself?"

Iolaus nodded wearily and turned back to the window. He heard Tel murmur behind him, "One of us will be here with him at all times until he's stronger."

"Thanks," Iolaus replied, leaning against the stone of the embrasure. Gods, he was glad Hercules would be alright. When he'd seen the ram hit him, driving him back, worse, when he'd seen the blood pulsing from the ugly, ragged wound, he'd been terrified. Whatever constraint was between them, however much Iolaus might doubt they'd ever recover the friendship that they'd had, he never wanted Herc to be hurt...and he couldn't bear to think of him dying. The thought twisted something inside, leaving him breathless. The fury was gone, even the hurt he still felt didn't seem to matter anymore. All that mattered was that Hercules hadn't been killed, that he was going to be all right.

He turned and paced back to the bed. For a moment, he gazed down on the too pale face, and gently brushed Hercules' hair back from his brow. Resting a hand lightly on his buddy's shoulder, Iolaus knew he'd not dare such a gesture anymore if Herc was awake. "They won't get away with this," he said, more to the unconscious demigod than the others, making a promise he intended to fulfill. His fury might be gone, but he was more convinced than ever that he didn't deserve the demigod's friendship, and still held onto the conviction that his partner didn't fully trust him anymore.

The door opened then, startling them, and a tearful Justina entered hesitantly. "I heard Hercules was hurt," she whispered, sniffing back her tears, trying to be brave.

Iolaus could see her father was about to reassure her and cut in quickly, letting his voice fill with pain, letting it catch in his throat, "He's dying...there's nothing we can do...."

Tel flashed him a sharp look, and Evanteus frowned, but they abided by their agreement, though they could see no reason to let Justina worry so. Poor child.

Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she sobbed harshly, as if her best friend in all the world was about to die, not a man she'd treated with cold contempt since he'd arrived. She stumbled over to Iolaus, leaning into him. "I'm so sorry," she hiccuped, overcome with sorrow, "I know he was your friend."

Even as he put a comforting arm around her shoulders, carrying on the charade for awhile longer, he thought how easily she'd slipped into the past tense when referring to Hercules, and how much he dearly wanted to throttle her for it.

She worked herself to into a fine little frenzy, until she seemed on the verge of hysteria. "I hate this," she wailed, "I hate the accidents! Something's going on, I know it is...and no one will tell me what! I can't stand it...I just want to get away!"

Evanteus moved to comfort her. "Easy, child, don't upset yourself so...it won't help Hercules for you to make yourself sick. Come...we'll go for a ride, get away from it all for a little while, at least," he said quietly.

But, Iolaus couldn't let that happen. "No," he intervened. "You shouldn't leave the castle right now...I'll go with her. Gods know, I'm not doing any good here."

Jason intervened, not sure this was a good idea. "Iolaus...."

But, the warrior cut him off, gazing back with a cool, determined look in his eyes. "It's alright, Jason. You take care of Herc...."

The King of Corinth returned his gaze, his eyes narrowed, not liking it one bit. He was certain Iolaus was trying to provoke the situation, bring it to a head. But, he held his tongue. His old friend was right, they needed to find out for sure whether Justina was a part of the plot or not. Swallowing, he nodded tightly, letting Iolaus know he understood and would offer no further objection. Moving closer to the bed, he laid a gentle hand on Hercules' shoulder, a wordless affirmation that he would watch over the demigod.

Iolaus nodded gratefully, and turned his attention back to Justina, letting her cling to him as he led her from the room, all the while believing that she was more dangerous than a viper. He was sure she still thought he hadn't figured it all out, and while he had signalled his rage to Daros, neither of them could know that he was certain the two of them were a team. No doubt, her hope had been to lure her father out, but Iolaus was pretty sure they might still take advantage of what they'd see as an opportunity to get him out of the way.

'Well, let them try,' he thought, only too eager to take his vengence for what they'd done to Hercules, for how close they'd come to stealing his best friend's life.

* * *

Standing by the window, Telimedes watched Iolaus and Justina ride out of the gate, puzzled as to why Iolaus hadn't wanted the girl to know Hercules was going to be fine. He didn't like where his reasoning was taking him, didn't want to think about the possibility that Daros wasn't acting alone. But, he was uneasy...because, if what he was beginning to fear was true, Iolaus might just have ridden out to face great danger on his own.

Turning away from the window embrasure, to move back to the bed, he didn't see Daros and five of his men lead their horses from the stables, mount and ride out of the gates.

* * *

They'd ridden a couple of miles into the hills, when Iolaus reached out to grab the reins of Justina's horse, drawing both mounts to a halt.

"What's wrong? What are you doing?" she demanded, startled.

He studied her for a moment, reflecting how quickly she'd calmed herself once they were away from the castle, how uncharacteristically quiet she'd been as they'd ridden through the hills. He'd let her take the lead, but it was time to call the game. "I know what's going on," he said quietly.

"What? I don't understand what you mean," she replied, innocent eyes wide and clear.

He smiled wearily as he shook his head and looked away for a moment, then turned back to her. "You really do think I'm a fool, don't you? You and Daros might be able to delude your family, but Herc, Jason and I figured it out without a lot of difficulty. But, you're good...I'll give you that. You haven't left many tracks."

She'd gasped a little, surprised by his accusation, surprised he'd suspected her...surprised most of all that he and Hercules, not to mention the King of Corinth, had apparently been more of a team in the last couple of days than she'd thought. Her eyes clouded for a moment, then filled with tears, one slipping pathetically down her cheek.

Iolaus snorted at the dramatics. "Don't give me that," he disparaged, "I'm not impressed with your helpless, innocent act."

She sniffed, bringing up a hand to brush away the errant tear. "You don't understand," she said. "Daros has been forcing me to do this, to betray my father. He threatened to kill me if I didn't help him."

"Your own life being so much more valuable to you than your father's, you had no choice but to submit to his threats," Iolaus drawled sarcastically, not impressed with her story.

"I was afraid," she whispered. "I didn't know what to do."

She was the picture of misery, shoulders slumped pathetically, head bent, tears running silently down her face. "I don't expect you to believe me," she murmured pathetically.

Iolaus' eyes narrowed as he studied her, damning himself for a fool as he wondered if maybe she was actually telling the truth. He didn't think so, it wasn't likely...but, could he afford to condemn her without knowing for sure?

"Alright," he said slowly, as if reluctantly accepting her story, "then we'd best head back immediately and tell your father what's been going on."

He began to wheel his horse around when her head lifted and she twisted in her saddle, staring down their back trail. "Oh gods," she whispered as if terrified, "he's back there...he'll kill us both!"

Iolaus whipped his head around, hearing what she'd heard...the sound of hoof beats in the distance, and there was a telltale cloud of dust coming toward them.

"Hurry," she hissed, "I know where we can hide...an old mine over the next hill. Follow me!"

She kicked her horse and he turned to follow her, both animals galloping across the grassy hill. When they crested the rise, he looked back and saw five or six riders some distance behind them. Well, six wasn't too many to handle, he thought, as he turned back to follow Justina. He was pretty sure she was hoping to lull him into trusting her, to let the ones behind catch up. Well, let her believe it a while longer...it was time to get to the bottom of all this, and those ill trained warriors behind him constituted no threat. He'd end it here, and now, before anyone else got hurt.

Without stopping, she led the way down the far side, then angled toward a slope of shale. 'Good plan,' he thought, admiring her tactics in spite of himself, 'the shale will cover our tracks.' Maybe she really was trying to escape from the men hunting them.

The horses scrambled up the scree, slipping, unhappy with the slippery stones beneath their hooves. Finally, they came up on a ledge of rock, and she tore along it, following it as it curved around the lip of the hill. About half a mile further on, he spotted the entrance to the mine in front of them. She drew up, and slipped from her mount.

"Come on," she urged. "We have to get inside before they see us. With no tracks on the rock, they won't know where we've gone...later, when it's safe, we can slip back to the castle."

"Uh huh," Iolaus grunted as he slid from his own mount. Either she was genuinely afraid, or she was one hell of an actress. If he'd had to bet, he'd still have bet on the actress. The hairs on the back of his neck told him she was dangerous. But, 'forewarned is forearmed,' he thought as he took the reins of his horse, and followed her into the darkness, wondering how she'd keep him distracted until the others caught up to them.

He heard the clop of their horses hooves echoing around the stone walls as she led the way deeper into the darkness. He studied his surroundings as he followed behind her. A low ceiling, rotten wooden beams providing a modicum of support against the stone pressing down from the mountain of rock above them. The air was musty, and it was cool in the darkness of the stone...like a tomb. He loosened his sword, then pulled it from its scabbard as he followed her further into the mine.

* * *

Daros had held back enough to let Justina convince Iolaus they had a chance to hide out. As soon as he spotted them cresting the hill ahead, he called to the five men with him to move faster, and spurred his horse to a full gallop. Gods, the man was a fool...this was almost too easy.

* * *

Iolaus heard Justina draw her horse to a halt not far ahead, just around a bend in the tunnel. Coming up beside her, he had the impression that the ceiling here was much higher, though in the almost stygian darkness, there was no way of knowing for certain.

"Now what?" he asked.

"There's a torch here on the wall," she murmured. "Give me a moment to light it."

Iolaus heard the chipping sound of flint, and then a flame flashed, its brightness in that darkness blinding him for an instant...but he heard the scramble of feet and it was enough.

Letting his horse go, Iolaus dropped to a roll, heading straight toward the men coming at him, and they were too close to avoid his assault. He barrelled into them, tripping two of the three. By the time he had spun up onto his feet, his eyes had adjusted to the light. Clipping one behind the ear with the hilt of his sword and spinning into a kick to knock the second one out, Iolaus completed his lightning moves, coming to a halt, his sword up, catching the downward thrust of the third man, swinging to the side, putting his weight behind his counterthrust, driving his attacker back. The echoes of their swords clanging together rang around what Iolaus could now see was a large chamber of stone, carved into the mountain by years of having ore removed from the walls.

Frightened by the noise of battle, the horses whirled and raced out of the mine. Justina stood well out of the way, against the wall, not happy that the guards seemed no match for the warrior. She'd been taken by surprise...she hadn't thought he'd be this good.

Silent, deadly, Iolaus moved from defence to attack, driving his enemy back, circling him around, so that he became disoriented, focused only on countering the flashing thrusts of Iolaus' sword...driving him back further, until the man tripped over the inert body of one of his comrades and fell. Iolaus clipped the side of his head with the flat of his sword, knocking the last attacker out cold.

He took a single deep breath before turning to face Justina, his eyes hard, cold, just as they'd been when he'd first arrived only three days ago. "Nice safe little mine," he observed, his voice tight. "It's done, Justina...you've lost the game."

"Not yet we haven't," Daros' voice rang out as he and his men raced around the curve of the tunnel.

Iolaus watched Justina move toward Daros, his arm coming up and around her, to hug her tightly. Well, at least, now, he knew for sure...she was no hostage to Daros' will, she was a willing partner. Daros pushed her gently back toward the wall, out of the way of battle, and silently signalled the others to take Iolaus. Eyes narrowed, the warrior shook his head as he backed to give himself more room to maneouver, warning them, "I don't want to kill anyone, but I will if you force me to it. Give it up Daros...you can't win this."

Amused by the little man's bravado, Daros laughed. "You crow as loud as any bantam cock I've seen," he sneered, his men spreading out on either side of him, intent upon circling Iolaus, trapping him in the middle of their group.

"Right," Iolaus grated back...and then he was moving. He spun, kicking out sharply, disarming the man closest to him, then leapt, kicking high into the man's chest, winding him. When his attacker doubled over, Iolaus used him as a bench to leap upon, kicking another on the side of the head, before he leapt over a third, rolling to his feet behind them, clipping a fourth behind the ear, dropping him like stone before he could turn to fight. Not bothering to watch the man fall, Iolaus spun again, bringing his sword around to slice deeply into the side of the man he'd jumped past, taking him out of the game. Dropping, he swept the legs out from under a fifth man, who knocked himself out when his head connected sharply with the stone floor of the cavern. The first man had gotten his breath back, and was charging in, furious, bringing his sword down toward Iolaus' back, but the warrior brought his sword up and back, over his head, blocking the blow, then spun on his heel, coming up fast, twisting his sword sharply, disarming the other man, and swung out with his left fist, a powerful blow that connected on the man's jaw, just in front of his ear, knocking him cold.

That left Daros, who'd watched the blond whirlwind decimate his forces almost faster than he could follow the man's movements. And, now, Iolaus was advancing on him, his sword etching small circles in the air in front of him, as he moved in on the attack. Daros was ready for him, and notwithstanding what he'd just witnessed, he had no doubts of his superior ability to take out this runt. They circled one another silently, each watching for an opening.

"You should give up while you're still alive," Iolaus taunted, knowing the words would only infuriate the other man, make him careless.

"You're a dead man," Daros promised him, and then lunged forward, his sword aiming for Iolaus' chest. But, the warrior easily parried the blow and spun around, bringing his own sword across toward Daros' neck. Daros brought his own sword up, finding himself on the defence, not liking it, beginning to feel rattled. Iolaus was playing with him, and he knew it. Licking his lips, he made the mistake of gazing into Iolaus' eyes, and felt the fire and the hate there like a blow. He staggered back unconsciously, and Iolaus moved in after him.

Desperate now, Daros fought like a cornered rat, his own sword flashing, clanging against Iolaus', fighting better than he ever had in his life. He felt a spurt of confidence when he drew first blood, cutting a thin line along Iolaus' left arm. But Iolaus just gave him a feral grin, his eyes flashing as he once again moved in on the attack. He felt no mercy for this man who had twice tried to kill the King and who's action had almost cost Herc's life earlier that day. If the man were smart enough to surrender, he'd spare his life, never having been able to kill in cold blood. But, he hoped the man was stupid, hoped he'd keep fighting against an opponent he must know he couldn't beat.

Daros kept coming at him, knowing if he didn't kill Iolaus here and now, he was dead himself, either now by Iolaus' blade or later when the King caught up to him. He fought like a man possessed, snarling with fury and fear. Finally, he spotted a weakness, an opening, and brought his sword across hard and fast, believing he'd take Iolaus' head off, but the blond dropped to one knee under the sweeping blade, and thrust his sword up into Daros' chest, killing him.

For a moment, Daros stood there, shocked surprise in his eyes. Iolaus drew back his sword, and Daros' fingers let his slip from his grip to clatter onto the stone floor. And, then he collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.

Justina screamed, and fell upon her lover's body, unable to believe he was dead. She pulled at his shoulders, pounded on his chest, cried out to him, begging him not to leave her...but, he was already gone.

Wearily, Iolaus shoved his sword back into its scabbard, then bent to drag her to her feet, twisting her around in front of him, to push her out of the mine.

She fought him at first, screaming, "Damn you! I loved him...I've done everything for him, to make him happy, to make him king." She squirmed, trying to get away from Iolaus, shrieking that she'd kill him, completely out of control. He held her tight, arms wrapped around her until she finally stopped shouting, and stood almost limp in his arms, sobbing, whispering over and over to herself, "I loved him."

"It's over," he said quietly, taking one arm to draw her along with him. He'd never liked closed, dark places, and he hated mines, especially when he felt them tremble slightly under his feet. Knowing he was probably imagining it, he still couldn't wait to get out into the sunlight.

She wept wretchedly, letting him drag her along, stumbling and dragging her feet, until she finally crashed to her knees. Iolaus leaned down to haul her back up, and she twisted fiercely toward him, driving a knife up into his body, deep into his right side under his ribs, angled up into his chest. He grunted at the unexpected assault, then felt his legs weaken uncontrollably as the shock of the injury took hold. He dropped to his knees, his right hand gripping the hilt of the knife she'd pulled from her boot to slam into him. It was buried to its hilt, and he had to fight his instinctive urge to pull it out.

If he did, he'd bleed to death, and he knew it.

Panting, he looked at her, trying to find his voice...realized there was nothing to say. She stood up and away, out of his reach, watching as he tried to assimilate the shock of what had happened. Wiping the tears from her face, she rasped bitterly, "I told you I'd kill you. I didn't want to kill my father, but he'd never have agreed to my marriage to Daros...we were going to marry immediately after...and now, because of you, he's gone. I hate you."

The pain hit then, breaking through the shock. He bit back a moan, turning his head away, denying her the satisfaction of seeing it written on his face. Doubled over, his left arm braced on the floor, he knew he was in real trouble. No one knew he was here, no one but her.

When Iolaus collapsed onto the floor of the cavern, she spit on him, and then turned to walk away.

They were all dead now. There was no one left to say that she'd been anything but a helpless hostage to the violence, until Iolaus had killed them all, tragically dying of his wound even as he had won the battle.

She walked from the darkness of the mine into the light of the afternoon, blinking for a moment, still shocked by the ease with which Iolaus had overcome nine armed men. She'd survived, but it was a hollow victory, having cost much more than she had ever imagined she'd have to pay. Mounting her own horse, and scattering the others, she turned her mount and headed back to the fortress, tears running down her face.

* * *

Biting off a moan at the pain, Iolaus half crawled, half dragged himself toward the entrance of the mine, the fingers of his left hand digging into the dirt to pull himself forward as his right hand secured the knife, trying to keep it from doing more damage as he moved. But, the sharp agony was intense, the shock to his body great, and he wasn't able to go more than a few feet before he collapsed, his consciousness fading as he heard the sound of hoofbeats moving farther away.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon, light slanting through the window as the sun began to settle in the west. Jason had stayed with the demigod while Tel and Evanteus drifted in and out of the chamber, both of them back now as they all kept a silent, troubled vigil. Finally, Hercules groaned as he struggled back to consciousness. Gods, his shoulder hurt. What in Tarturus had happened? Gradually, memory reasserted itself as he blinked against the light of the afternoon sun streaming in through the embrasure.

"Take it easy, Hercules," Jason murmured, as he poured water into a mug from a flask on the bedside table, then bent to support the demigod's head as he held the cup to Herc's mouth.

Grateful, Hercules drank deeply. He'd lost enough blood that he had a raging thirst. Jason let his head settle back on the pillows he was propped up against to help ease his breathing.

Herc's eyes skittered up at Jason and then around the room, seeing Evanteus sitting near by, Tel by the window...but no Iolaus. "Iolaus... where?" he mumbled to Jason, not yet fully conscious.

"It's alright, Hercules. He'll be back soon," Evanteus reassured him.

Frowning, Hercules wondered where Iolaus had gone. "Where...?" he persisted, wanting to know.

Telimedes answered, "He rode out a couple of hours ago with Justina. She was very upset about what had happened to you...."

Hercules swore, "Damn it!" and he struggled to rise, fear for his friend banishing the cobwebs from his mind. Glaring at Jason, he growled accusingly, "You let him go?"

Jason tried to push him back down, finding himself in a losing battle as he tried to calm the suddenly agitated demigod. "Take it easy, Hercules! You'll pull your shoulder open again... you've been badly hurt and need to rest. Iolaus knows what he's doing."

"No!" Herc replied, levering himself up on his elbows, wincing as his action pulled on the wound in his shoulder. "I have to go after him."

"Don't be ridiculous, Hercules," Evanteus interjected firmly. "Iolaus and Justina will be back soon, I'm sure. He'll not be pleased if he gets back and finds out you've hurt yourself further for no good reason."

Hercules stared at them exasperated, remembering they didn't know, didn't understand. Biting his lip, he asked, "Where's Daros?"

Tel shifted uncomfortably, "We're not sure...I sent my men to search for him after Iolaus left...Iolaus told us Daros couldn't be trusted. But, they haven't found him yet. He must have left the castle...." Jason gave him a sharp look, not having known that Tel had taken this action, or that Daros had left the fortress.

"That's it, I'm outta here," Hercules growled as he thrust Jason out of his way and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Spotting his bloody vest hanging on the corner post of the bed, he grabbed it with his right hand, and eased his left arm into it.

"Hercules?" Tel asked, his heart sinking, realizing he should have acted sooner, should have followed up on his doubts, not buried them because he didn't want to acknowledge what they meant.

Herc looked at the two of them, realizing there was no time left. "I'm sorry...there's no easy way to tell you this, but Iolaus and I believe Justina and Daros are in league together. We haven't got tangible proof, but we're sure...."

Evanteus gasped, outraged, "You can't be serious!"

Standing, Hercules said briskly, his eyes flashing with impatience, "I don't have time to argue with you... she's leading Iolaus into a trap, I'm certain of it. Now, which way did they go?"

Jason put out a hand to steady the demigod. "East, across the hills," he said. "I'll go with you."

"As will I," Tel chimed in.

Nodding gratefully, knowing he was far from full strength, and not too steady on his feet, Herc headed toward the door. As he passed Evanteus, who was sitting stunned, he dropped a hand on the man's shoulder. "I'm sorry," the demigod said quietly, and then he, Jason and Tel were out the door. As they strode down the hall to the stairs, Tel sent the guard he'd posted at the door to Hercules' chamber to run on ahead, to round up others, and to get the horses saddled.

* * *

They had barely left the fortress gate when they spotted Justina racing toward them across the hills. Hercules gut clenched as he realized Iolaus wasn't with her. Kicking his mount, he galloped toward her, anxious to know what had happened, the others close behind him.

Reaching them, Justina slid from her horse, sobbing hysterically, sinking to her knees in the midst of the mounted men. Herc was out of his saddle in a heartbeat, drawing her roughly to her feet, trembling with the urge to shake her as he demanded, "Where is he? What's happened to Iolaus?"

She shook her head, weeping uncontrollably, hiccuping as she panted out, "Dead...they're all dead. He saved me...killed the others...."

Hercules froze at her words, his hands gripping her shoulders painfully, as he protested, "No! Don't tell me that! Where is he?"

When she didn't respond immediately, he shook her angrily, and Jason intervened, to keep him from hurting her in his fear, "Easy, Hercules...we'll find him."

Seemingly overcome by the trauma, exhausted by her hysteria, Justina slumped in his arms, her head falling back as she fainted.

"Damn it!" Hercules muttered, easing her to the ground.

Tel signalled to one of the guards with them. "Take her to the fortress and advise the King that we have gone to find Iolaus," he ordered.

Hercules and Jason had remounted, the demigod casting a worried look at the sinking sun. If they didn't find Iolaus soon, it would be too dark to follow the trail.

Sharing his concern, Tel took the lead, racing across the hills, his eyes quartering the ground as they rode along the path Iolaus and Justina had taken earlier, reading the signs of other horsemen following behind, covering their trail.

Drawing up, Tel dropped from his saddle a couple of miles from the fortress to study the ground to be certain of the tracks. Looking up, he said quietly, "There were at least six of them following Justina and Iolaus...it looks like the horses were racing full out, so Iolaus knew they were being trailed by this point."

Nodding tightly, Hercules looked toward the hills ahead of them, wondering how far they still had to go. The sun would be down soon. They didn't have more than another half an hour before it would be dark.

The riders set off again, racing the night up and over the hills.

* * *

The torch flickered still in the cavern deep in the mine. One of the fallen guards groaned as he stirred, one hand moving to the back of his head, trying to remember what had happened. Rolling to his side and pushing himself to his knees, he looked around, dismayed by the bodies and the blood around him. When he spotted Daros' body, he knew the plot was finished, and that he'd better get away before he was caught and branded a traitor, his life forfeit.

He was about to check on his comrades, to see if others still lived, when he felt the earth shimmy a little under his feet. His heart caught for a moment in fear. He had to get out of the mine...there was no time to wait, no time to linger. The place was a deathtrap.

Staggering to his feet, he headed down the darkened tunnel, almost stumbling over Iolaus' sprawled body. Grunting with a certain satisfaction that the runt, at least, had also paid with his life, the guard carried on, moving out into the waning light of the day, and headed northwest, into the mountains of the Pelopponese, far away from the fortress at Argos.

* * *

Tel had begun to suspect where the trail was leading them, and was certain when it disappeared into the slide of shale. He'd shown Justina the old abandoned mine years ago, warning her to stay away from it, that it was dangerous. As the shadows lengthened across the land, and the sky above them turned indigo, while the light flamed in the west, he led the way up across the shale to the stone shelf, and then along it to the mine.

Minutes later, they pulled up and dismounted. It was fast growing dark and the mouth of the tunnel was a black hole in the side of the mountain.

"We'll need torches," Tel said, turning with his men to gather dry wood and grass. But, Hercules knew Iolaus had to be somewhere inside that mine, and wasn't prepared to wait a moment longer to find his friend. He loped into the tunnel, Jason close behind him, both of them wanting to race ahead, but having to move with a certain caution in the ever deepening darkness as they moved further in.

"IOLAUS!" Hercules yelled, feeling desperate when he got no answer. There was a flickering of light further ahead, somewhere around a curve in the shaft. His eyes adjusting to the darkness as he strode further into the low tunnel, he spotted a body about thirty yards ahead, just before the tunnel curved away into flickering dimness. There was only enough light for him to make out the mop of golden curls on the man crumpled on the ground, one hand stretched toward the mouth of the mine, fingers curled into the dirt, as if he'd been trying to drag himself forward.

Jason's breath caught in a gasp of dread as he, too, made out the still form a hundred feet away.

"Iolaus," Herc whispered, the name a sob on his lips, desperately frightened by the unnatural stillness, the silence. He stood frozen for a moment, then rushed forward. It couldn't be. Iolaus couldn't be dead. He couldn't be too late, not again. Gods, please....

He'd almost reached his buddy when the earth pitched under his feet, and the stone around him groaned in anguish as it was twisted by the shudder that rippled through the earth.

"Get out of here, Jason!" Hercules commanded the King.

"Hercules," Jason began, wanting to protest, when the earth shifted again, bringing a light hail of stone and dust from the ceiling above.

"Go back, now! I'll get him and be right behind you," Hercules ordered. Licking his lips, knowing the demigod was right, that he wasn't needed to carry Iolaus, Jason turned back toward the mouth of the mine.

Cursing the gods for their rotten timing as he loped toward Iolaus, Hercules staggered as the earth shifted sharply beneath him, almost losing his footing, then his head came up as he heard the ominous snap. The rotten beam almost directly above Iolaus was cracking, breaking apart under the relentless pressure of the rock above it.

Glad that he'd sent Jason back to safety, Hercules lunged forward, desperate to gather Iolaus up and get him out of there, when another sharp, more violent tremor shuddered up from the depths of the mountain, bringing down chunks of rock between them and the mouth of the mine. Herc's eyes went up to the beam, and he saw it twist, close to snapping.

"IOLAUS!" he shouted, desperate to make his friend hear him. If he went for Iolaus, the ceiling would come down on them before he'd get two feet. So, he went for the beam, reaching above his head, his feet straddling his buddy's crumpled body, ignoring the agony of his shoulder as he pushed back on the mountain with all his strength, holding it back, keeping it from coming down to crush his friend.

Jason turned, and almost started back, crying out, "Hercules!"

But the rock had begun to fall heavily between them, blocking the shaft. Helplessly, his heart breaking, he watched Hercules reach up toward the ceiling, holding back the mountain. A rock grazed his head, banging against his shoulder, awakening him to his own danger. He heard Tel call out to him, and then the prince was grabbing his arm, pulling him from the mine. Turning, he stumbled out, hearing the crash of rock behind him, coughing from the dust-thickened air.

* * *

"IOLAUS!" Hercules yelled again, desperately hoping his friend could hear him and would respond, before the weight above him became too much to hold back. He nudged his buddy with one foot. "WAKE UP!"

The demigod was rewarded by a groan, as Iolaus struggled back toward his friend's voice. "Herc?"

"Yeah, buddy. Listen, the tunnel is collapsing...you've got to crawl out of here," Hercules grated as he braced himself against the mountain pressing down upon his straining arms.

Iolaus heard the urgency in Herc's voice, and had been vaguely aware of the quake. He gasped, trying to rouse himself enough to move, but he couldn't seem to focus. "Can't," he murmured. "Go...."

"I'm not leaving you!" Hercules shouted at him, wondering how much longer he could hold the roof of the tunnel in place. He knew Jason had reached the mouth of the tunnel, but wasted no breath telling him to stay back...the rain of rock between them was enough of a deterrent. "Please, Iolaus," Hercules begged, "You have to do this...you have to go back down the tunnel before the roof collapses."

Dimly, Iolaus realized that Hercules was not going to leave him...that they'd both die if he didn't get his act together. Moaning against the pain that radiated from his side, he pushed himself to his knees, and forced himself to half crawl, half drag himself back around the curve of the tunnel into the larger cavern beyond. Dust filled the air from the falling rock, making it hard to breathe.

He'd almost made it when he was hit with a spasm of coughing and he felt the knife tear something inside. He coughed again, tasting blood in the back of his throat. His strength gave out and he sagged to the earth, curled away from Hercules, who still had not seen the knife in his body.

Herc had watched every agonizing move as Iolaus forced himself to use the strength he had left, wincing at the painful coughs that wracked his friend's body. When his buddy crumpled, he knew Iolaus wasn't going to get any further on his own. Setting his jaw, looking up once at the rock hanging above him, held back only by the rotten beam he held in place, Hercules gathered his own strength, and roaring with the effort, he pushed the stone up, then let go, racing ahead of the rock fall to grab Iolaus and drag him around the bend, desperately hoping there'd be some safety there.

His buddy cried out in pain when Herc grabbed him under the arms and roughly hauled him out of danger, not having the time for gentleness. Hercules could feel the blood flowing heavily down his own chest and knew he'd reopened his wound.

Damn, this wasn't good.

Heavy stones bounced off his shoulders as he curled over Iolaus to protect his friend as he dragged him back and out of the way of the rock fall. He was afraid they weren't going to make it.

And, then they were clear.

Almost sobbing with relief to find that the cavern roof was still holding, Hercules dropped to his knees, gently turning Iolaus in his grip, holding him securely, Iolaus' head resting against his chest. The single torch was still burning, casting a flickering, uncertain light in the dust filled air of the cavern, but it was enough light to see....

"Gods, no," Hercules gasped when he saw the hilt of the knife, the blade buried in his buddy's body.

Barely conscious, Iolaus could feel the hot viscous liquid streaming from Herc's shoulder past the cheek that was pressed against the demigod's chest. And, he could smell it. Blinking, he saw the blood and knew it couldn't be his own.

"Herc," he rasped, "You're bleeding...."

"It's alright...just my shoulder," Hercules replied, his voice unsteady. "Don't try to talk, Iolaus."

He wanted to pull the blade from Iolaus' body, couldn't stand to see it there, but he knew Iolaus could bleed to death if he did. More dust billowed in from the tunnel behind them as the ceiling finally gave way completely, and crashed into the tunnel, filling it, trapping them in the cavern. Iolaus choked and coughed, trying to get his breath while Herc held him, wishing there was something more he could do.

"Too much blood...." Iolaus murmured when he could again speak, not willing to let it go. "Stop the bleeding, Herc...."

When Hercules glanced down at his shoulder, he realized Iolaus was right...the blood wasn't just oozing out, it was pumping. If he didn't stop it, he'd pass out in not many more minutes, and then Iolaus would be hurt and alone, buried alive in this damned mine.

"You're right," Hercules replied. "I'm going to lay you down for a minute, and use your knife to cauterize it, okay?"

"'kay," whispered Iolaus, barely aware of what was going on, only knowing that Herc was in trouble if he didn't stop the life from pouring from his body.

Hercules eased Iolaus down, then pulled the knife from his buddy's boot. Standing, he moved to the torch that was anchored in an iron bracket on the wall, and held the knife in the flame. When it was hot enough, Hercules pulled the sodden dressing half off, and gritting his teeth, pressed the blade against the wound.

"Mmmmuphghhh!" he moaned, unable to completely deny the pain of it. But, it worked. The bleeding had stopped. He leaned against the wall, panting against the pain, and then pushed himself upright, walking unsteadily back to Iolaus, who was curled in another coughing spasm.

Hercules eased himself down against the wall, and pulled his buddy gently back into his arms, supporting Iolaus' head and shoulders in the curve of his arm, against his chest. He shuddered when he felt how cold Iolaus' skin had already become, a combination of the shock of the wound and the chill of the mine. Iolaus seemed to be unconscious, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. Herc gently pushed his buddy's sweatdampened hair back with his free hand, caressing Iolaus' cheek with the back of his fingers, his gut twisting when he saw the blood on Iolaus' lips.

"Don't you quit on me," the demigod whispered, his words a plea from his heart.

Iolaus lay unmoving, unresponsive. Herc's eyes lifted to roam the cavern, and it was then that he saw the bodies sprawled in the shadows further back. Gods, Iolaus had beaten them all before he'd collapsed. Tightening his grip, he pulled Iolaus as close as he could, hoping that some of the warmth of his own body would penetrate the chill of Iolaus'.

"Why'd you come...?"

Herc's eyes dropped back to Iolaus' face at the sound of the hoarse whisper. Eyes darkened by pain searched his, confused, not understanding.

"Justina made it back to the fortress...she said you were dead...I..." Herc's voice caught, unable to go on, knowing that her words could still come true.

Iolaus' eyes were glazed, but he clung to consciousness. "No, before...."

Hercules felt the lump fill his throat when he realized Iolaus was referring to why he'd come after him in the first place. Gods, now when it might be too late, now he could finally tell Iolaus the truth, finally make him understand. "I had to tell you," he said, his voice cracking, "I never agreed with that damned magistrate...I never agreed that you couldn't be trusted. And...I wanted to be there when they attacked. I knew you'd be caught in the middle, but, he lied to me, and left in the night. As soon as I knew what he'd done, I ran as fast as I could. Gods, Iolaus, I'd never abandon you willingly...you have to know that...."

Iolaus' eyes searched his, then skittered around the cavern. "Cave in?" he asked weakly.

"Yeah, 'fraid so," Hercules told him, holding him close. "But, Jason's out there...he'll get us out."

Iolaus' eyelids drooped as he fought for breath, clinging to consciousness. "Should have left me," he breathed. "Not worth...."

"DON'T!" Hercules almost shouted, then grabbed for his own control, "don't you ever tell me you're not worth it. I don't want to hear it!"

Pain-glazed blue eyes fluttered open, and Iolaus dragged in air, finally admitting to his own guilt, murmuring, "Betrayed you. Angry...deserved...."

"Ah, gods, don't," Hercules begged, tears glittering in his eyes at what his partner had suffered, was suffering still. "Don't go there, please. You never betrayed me, never. I betrayed you, and I know it. You never deserved that, Iolaus...Xena...it was wrong, I was wrong. Gods, Iolaus, I'm so sorry."

Iolaus' eyes searched Herc's, his face so pale in the flickering light that it looked like translucent porcelain. Finally, he sighed a little, and Hercules felt the tension leave his body, as Iolaus let the last of his grief and guilt go, just as he'd let the anger drain away after Hercules had been hurt. Whatever happened now, he knew that Herc hadn't ever meant to betray him, that his best friend had never stopped caring about him, was terrified for him. The regret of his own jealousy haunted him still, but it was distant now, fading along with his perceptions of the world around him.

"'s okay," he murmured, granting a ready and full absolution. Not that he thought about it like that, nor would he ever. Iolaus had been angrier with himself than with Hercules, the hurt he'd felt was pain he'd inflicted on himself, out of his own guilt and desire, more than anything Herc had done, he knew that now.

Hercules watched his face, and saw him start to fade. Holding him tightly, as if he could hold onto to Iolaus' soul, he pleaded, "Don't you let go...you hear me? Don't you give up!"

"Tired," his buddy whispered breathily as his eyelids drooped again, shuttering those brilliant eyes. Iolaus shuddered a little from the cold, knowing he was beginning to drift. "Herc, dig..."

Hercules' flinched, a single tear spilling onto his cheek. He knew Iolaus was right, that he could help get them out of here faster. But, he was terrified to let his buddy go, certain that Iolaus would slip away if he wasn't there to hold onto him.

Iolaus' eyelids fluttered again, as he forced them open once more. Gazing up at Herc, he knew what his buddy was thinking, could feel it in the strength of the grip around his body. A ghost of a smile played across his lips, as he murmured, "Go on, Herc..."

Hercules drew in a shaky breath, as he whispered back, "You'd better not quit on me, or I'll come after you, I swear it."

Iolaus' body quivered, and Herc realized his buddy was laughing at him...laughing, even now, until a shaft of agony took his breath away. "I know," sighed Iolaus. "Go on...."

Steeling himself to do what he knew was necessary, Herc gently laid Iolaus on the ground, propping him up against the wall to help him breathe. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he vowed, once again letting his fingers brush his best friend's cheek. Then he stood, and headed back into the tunnel.

It seemed to take forever, and the demigod worried as he felt his strength waning. Then, finally Hercules could hear them working toward him from the other side of the barrier, and not long after that, light from their torches began to show through chinks in the pile of rock. Renewing his efforts, working faster, knowing they were close now and he could soon get Iolaus to help, he ripped rock from the wall in front of him, until finally there was enough space to squeeze through.

Jason's dusty face grinned wearily when he saw Hercules, and realized that at least one of his friends was still in one piece. But, then the grin faded. "Iolaus?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Still alive the last time I checked," Hercules affirmed as he turned back to the cavern. The torch was burning low now, and it was very dark back there. Carefully, he made his way to Iolaus' side, calling softly, "You still with me, buddy?"

"Mmm," Iolaus murmured, struggling to fight off the darkness that threatened. When Herc picked him up, he knew they were on their way out, finally. There was something he was forgetting...something...oh yeah. "The others," he muttered, his voice barely audible, "not all dead...."

Hercules looked back sharply at the bodies still sprawled around the cavern. If he'd known that before, he wouldn't have left Iolaus alone and unguarded. "Now you tell me," he complained, as he carried his friend back out into the light.

Iolaus snickered at the irritated tone, then moaned softly as the pain shot through him and he let himself finally slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

Tel and the guards hauled the others out of the cavern as Jason checked Iolaus, flinching when he saw the hilt of the knife and he then quickly inspected Hercules' wound. Irritated, Hercules shrugged him off, but Jason made him sit down, not liking the pallor of the demigod's skin, the blood streaked down his chest, or the slight glazing of his eyes.

Herc would only agree to sit if he could still hold Iolaus in his arms. There was no way they could make him let go. Jason was smart enough not to even try at that point. He called for the supply pack, and pulled out a roll of linen, wadding a lot of it into a pad that he could use as a pressure bandage, then unwinding another long strip to hold the pad in place. Kneeling beside Iolaus, he looked at Hercules and shook his head as he said, his gravelly voice tight, "I don't like to take it out...I know he'll bleed heavily. But, he can't travel with that knife in him. It could do too much damage."

Hercules closed his eyes and nodded, knowing Jason was right. "Do what you have to," he said hoarsely.

Jason gripped the butt of the knife firmly and drew it out in a smooth motion. Even unconscious, Iolaus arced against the pain, a moan rising from his lips. Herc gripped him firmly, and watched as Jason put pressure on the wound, then bound the pad in place, looping the long strip of linen around Iolaus' body, tying it tight. "That'll have to do until we can get him back," he said as he stood and signalled to Tel that it was time to go.

Telimedes and his men had brought out the traitors who still lived, and had bound their wrists, draping them over horses that they had found grazing near by, not having gone far when Justina had chased them off earlier. Now, he brought mounts forward for Hercules and Jason.

Jason turned back to Hercules. "I'm going to carry Iolaus, Hercules," he said firmly, expecting the demigod to argue the point.

Herc looked up, and his mouth opened to do just that, but then he realized it would be dangerous for him to carry Iolaus. Much as he hated to admit it, he was on the edge of passing out himself, and he didn't want to take the chance of letting Iolaus fall if he lost consciousness on the way back. "Alright," he agreed quietly.

Jason climbed up onto his horse, then Tel and one of his men eased Iolaus up into his arms. "Ride close to Hercules," Tel then ordered the guard, "I'm not sure how much longer he can hold himself together."

He nodded his understanding, as Tel turned to help the demigod up onto his own mount.

They kicked their horses gently to get the animals moving carefully back along the dark ledge, keeping the pace steady but not so rough as to further injure Iolaus, as they headed back to the fortress at Argos.

* * *

Evanteus was waiting anxiously for their return, and he had his castle healer standing by, hoping that his daughter had lied, that Iolaus was still alive, if injured.

He'd had no words for his daughter when she had roused, wailing that she had been lucky to escape harm, that Iolaus had protected her with his life. He'd just stared at her, not knowing what to believe, and then turned away, quietly directing a guard to escort her to her room and lock her in. Shocked by his order, his cold rejection, the tears had stopped abruptly and she had paled. Wordlessly, trembling, she had let the guard lead her away.

It was with considerable relief that he saw the horsemen finally ride into view. He frowned when he noted that many of his guards seemed to be draped over their mounts, their hands bound in front of them. 'Traitors,' he thought to himself. He could make out Iolaus held in Jason's arms at the head of the column, and Hercules close behind, and he hoped desperately that the feisty blond warrior was still alive. At that moment, it was all he cared about...the bodies slung over the horses in the back of the cluster of riders were not his concern, at least not immediately.

The King personally took Iolaus from Jason, relieved to learn he was still alive, and carried the injured, unconscious man into the castle and up to the warrior's chamber, yelling for the healer to attend him. The bandage around Iolaus' body was sodden, and the King noticed that blood was again dripping from Hercules' shoulder, but the demigod wouldn't let them pay him any attention until they'd seen to Iolaus.

Shaking his head with impatient understanding, Jason pulled a well padded chair close to Iolaus' bed, where Hercules could see his friend clearly, and pushed the demigod down into it.

"Sit down, before you fall down," he ordered and Herc had the sense to comply. The hero hardly noticed as Jason tended to his shoulder, his concentration focused on Iolaus' face, his mouth dry with fear at his friend's deathly pallor and deep unconsciousness. His eyes flicked to the healer, now watching his face as he worked over Iolaus, trying to determine from the man's expression if his buddy was going to be alright.

But, the healer gave nothing away. He had two of the guards help him undress Iolaus, and then pulled the sodden bandage and the pad of linen from the wound. Dipping a cloth in a basin by the bed, he carefully cleaned the blood away so that he could see the injury. "What was the angle of the knife?" he questioned, not caring who answered.

Jason stepped forward, and demonstrated how the hilt had angled up into the chest, resting almost against Iolaus' body, deep along his right side. Nodding, one brow arched, the healer pressed gently along the side of Iolaus' chest, noting where he found tenderness and resistance, noting where the pressure resulted in an increased flow of blood. Again he washed off the wound, dusted herbs over it, and then lifted a bone needle from the table, a thin line of gut attached, and he carefully closed the wound. More herbs, and then the pressure bandage was reapplied.

He washed his own hands then in the basin of water, and dried them on a towel as he studied the unconscious man's face, listening to his breathing, hearing the slight rattle.

"Well?" Hercules demanded, unable to wait longer, "Is he going to be alright?"

The healer frowned as he shook his head slightly, causing Herc's heart to clench, until the man clarified his thoughts. "It's a little too soon to tell," he answered slowly, then looked at Hercules. "I think the wound was shallow, though long, damaging a lot of muscle, just barely clipping the side of his right lung. If so, the muscles will mend, and it's possible the other internal injuries aren't too bad, and could heal on their own. If he doesn't get infection, or bleed to death internally, then he might make it."

If. Might. The naked fear for his friend's life was there for anyone who looked at his face to see, as Hercules swallowed and tried to slow his breathing. He reached out and took Iolaus' limp hand in his own as he settled in to wait. Jason, his own chest tight with fear, rested a hand on Hercules' shoulder.

* * *

No one was particularly surprised when the fever set in. The mine had been filthy, and it would have been a miracle if Iolaus had escaped without suffering any infection. The healer checked the wound hourly, finally opening it again, and pushing down upon the angry, reddened skin to drain the injury of the discoloured muck that had gathered in it. He applied poultices to draw it out further, and inserted a thin, clay pipe to allow the wound to drain, before dusting the wound with healing herbs and again bandaging it tightly. He made a bitter tea, and forced it drop by drop down Iolaus' throat.

Hercules wouldn't leave his buddy's side. He bathed Iolaus, trying to bring down the fever, and he held his friend's head up while the healer held the cup to his lips. He'd rest only when Jason forced him, with promises to watch over Iolaus. Weak from his own injury and loss of blood, Hercules would then drowse restlessly in the chair by the bed while Jason took his turn bathing Iolaus' fevered skin, his own face gray and lined with worry.

For two days, Iolaus didn't wake, not fully. He'd get restless, and thrash weakly, moaning softly, and mumbling fragmented phrases in his distress.

The others didn't understand his ramblings, but Hercules understood only too well, and he knew that in his delirium Iolaus had forgotten what Herc had told him in the dark of the mine. "Not Xena", his buddy whispered, the hurt of it ragged in his voice. And, another time, Herc thought his heart might break when Iolaus murmured, "You agreed?" with that tone of disbelief and profound pain. But, most often, he muttered angrily, "worthless", as his body struggled against the fever that threatened to consume him.

Jason's heart clenched at the pain in Hercules' eyes, and in pity for the grief and distress that plagued Iolaus so unnecessarily. Saddened by it all, frightened that Iolaus might not make it, and that Hercules would never forgive himself for all that had happened, Jason kept the others away, leaving as well for long periods, so that the demigod could be alone with his best friend.

Hercules talked to Iolaus, hour after endless hour. Reassuring him, correcting him, not knowing if Iolaus could hear him, or understand what he was saying, but having to apologize for what he'd done, whispering, over and over, "I'm sorry, buddy...gods, I'm so sorry." And, at other times, he protested, "No, that's not true." But most of the time he just repeated soothing assurances, and when Iolaus seemed to be drifting away from him, his breathing becoming too shallow, Herc would call his name, call him back, until his voice was hoarse, and he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

But, finally, the fever broke, and Hercules sat back with a profound sigh of relief when Iolaus settled into a healing sleep. Jason had been with him through most of it, and now he felt the King of Corinth's hand on his shoulder, gripping it reassuringly as he murmured, "The worst is over...he's going to be all right, Hercules."

Herc had nodded, relief clogging his throat and bringing tears to his eyes, leaving him unable to speak.

* * *

Hercules wouldn't leave, so they had finally hauled in another bed to allow him to sleep more comfortably, knowing he'd hear if Iolaus called out or needed anything. When Iolaus became alert enough to realize that Hercules had watched over him without respite, he shook his head weakly and grinned wanly, murmuring, "What am I going to do with you?"

Herc had just smiled back, his fingers brushing Iolaus' hair back from his face, as he answered, "Forgive me for being a jerk?"

And, Iolaus had nodded, whispering, "Already have...." before he drifted back to sleep.

It was a week before Iolaus was well enough to take much interest in his surroundings. Herc's own wound had healed almost magically in the same time, leaving him feeling guilty that he could recover so easily when Iolaus had to suffer so much more. But, finally the day came when his buddy was able to sit up in the bed, propped by a stack of pillows and cushions, managing to hold his own mug to sip either broth or tea, whatever the healer deemed appropriate. Jason continued to give them space, leaving them alone to recover the easy friendship they'd shared for so long.

Once he was fully alert, and wondering about all that had happened, Iolaus got Hercules to tell him again what had transpired in the mine, his own memories more than a little foggy, little more than shattered fragments. And, finally, the day came when he asked, "Where's Justina?"

Hercules sighed and looked away. "Oh, she's around somewhere," he replied, unable to keep the bitter tone from his voice. He was certain that she was at least partially responsible for what had happened to Iolaus, and it grated to think she was floating around the castle again, playing the innocent, delicate princess who'd survived such a frightening experience. The only place she was not allowed was Iolaus' chamber. Neither Jason nor Hercules wanted her anywhere near their buddy.

Iolaus' eyes narrowed, as he demanded, "Tell me what she says happened." So, Hercules did, and as he spoke, Iolaus looked away, his expression thoughtful, remembering her unfeigned anguish and horror when he'd killed Daros. There was a long silence when Hercules finished speaking, and then Iolaus turned to him, "I want to see her."

"Iolaus...I'm not sure that's a good idea," Herc protested.

"Now, Herc...I want to see her now," Iolaus repeated, implacable.

Recognizing an argument that he wasn't going to win, Hercules shrugged and went to find her. It wasn't long before he was back, leading her into the room, his posture tense and a scowl darkening his face. He didn't want her here, didn't want to see or hear her, didn't want to think about her.

Iolaus looked at her, and she studied him. "I'd like to speak to her alone, Herc," the warrior said quietly.

"Not a chance," Hercules replied, standing with his arms crossed, his feet firmly planted where he intended to stay. Surprised, Iolaus flashed his gaze to his partner's, and Hercules repeated, softly but firmly, "I'm not leaving her alone with you. I don't trust her."

Iolaus' gaze dropped and a slight smile flitted across his face, and then was gone as he looked back at Justina, who hadn't said a thing. "Hercules told me what you said happened," he said.

"And?" she prompted, her throat dry. She'd hoped this man would die, knowing that if he lived her life would be forfeit. But, he hadn't died, and now her future was in his hands. There wasn't anything she could do about that, except be ready to call him a liar if he told them she'd been the one who had stabbed him, hoping to kill him. Not that she thought anyone would believe her.

Iolaus bit his lip as he thought about it. Then, he said quietly, "You behaved foolishly, believing you acted out of love. You were devious, and your actions caused a lot of pain...cost some men their lives. But, I'm hoping you're not truly evil, that you regret what you've done. So, for now, I'll remain silent. However, if I ever hear that any harm comes to your father or uncle, that any threat is ever made again on their lives, I'll tell everyone what really happened back there."

She stared at him, hardly able to believe the gift he was offering her. And she wasn't the only one. Herc was dumbfounded and very unhappy about it. "Iolaus..." he began, but his buddy waved a hand cutting him off.

"She's young...and she loved him. Gods know, love can make anyone act like a fool." Iolaus gazed briefly at Hercules, thinking that they'd both learned that lesson all too well. "But," he continued, "I'm not only concerned about her. Evanteus would never recover if he knew the extent of her betrayal. If she's learned her lesson and behaves herself from here on, he doesn't have to know the whole truth," Iolaus explained, his voice filled with compassion.

Hercules wanted to protest, but he knew Iolaus right. Exacting justice from her wouldn't change anything that had happened and would only cause more pain. And, yeah, love did make people act like fools. His face carefully blank, the demigod turned to Justina as he demanded, "Well...do you agree to Iolaus' terms? Can we trust you?"

Her shoulders sagged, and honest tears glistened in her eyes, scarcely able to believe the mercy being shown to her. Freed from the spell Daros had woven around her heart, she'd been appalled by what she'd done, and only hoped her father might someday forgive her. She nodded slowly, then answered, her voice broken, "Yes...you can trust me not to try to hurt my father again."

"Fine," Iolaus replied.

"Fine," Hercules echoed, then turned to open the door, making it clear that her presence was no longer desired. She turned and without another word, walked from the room.

Herc closed the door behind her, muttering, "And if I never see you again, it will be too soon."

Iolaus added quietly, "That's for damned sure."

* * *

Though Iolaus refused to tell anyone exactly what had happened, Telimedes had his own suspicions and was unwilling to turn a blind eye to what he believed Justina had done to plot against her father and threaten his life. One evening after dinner, as they sat before a flickering fire, wine goblets in their hands, Tel turned to his brother and Jason, to express his opinion of what should occur. "She can't stay here."

When Evanteus looked up sharply, Tel continued, gently but with firm resolution, "I'm sorry, 'Van, but we can't just pretend it never happened, that she didn't betray your trust."

Evanteus looked away, heartbroken with his own belief that his daughter had plotted his death. "There's no proof," he murmured, his throat tight, "and Iolaus refuses to tell us all that happened."

Jason watched the two brothers, sorry for them, but deciding to keep his own counsel. This was their decision to make. He was taken by complete surprise when Tel turned to him, his voice carefully neutral as he suggested, "She needs to marry, someone who will be able to handle her, someone strong." Looking directly at Jason, one brow raised in silent enquiry, the man continued, "Such a marriage would cement an alliance between kingdoms, ensure peace and support if others threaten."

Jason blinked and cleared his throat. While it was true that in the troubled land of Greece, where states often warred against one another, a firm alliance was always desirable, this was too high a price to pay. But, when Evanteus looked at him hopefully, having grasped Telimedes' intentions, Jason knew he'd have to respond.

"Uh, I'm appreciative of the offer of such an alliance, but I'm afraid that Justina is a little too young for my taste...with all respect, I would not consider such an option." His eyes flicked away as he thought of the woman he did desire, wondering if she would ever realize his commitment to her, if he'd ever find sufficient courage to proclaim his love for her.

Shaking himself a little, he returned his attention to the matter at hand. "However, I am aware that Aristedes, first son of Castor, King of Patras, is seeking a wife. Close enough to visit occasionally, far enough away to be safe."

Evanteus pondered the idea for a long moment, studying the flames, wishing such an act were not necessary. He knew he was a coward for not wanting to openly acknowledge what in his heart he believed to be the truth. But, she was his daughter, and despite everything, he loved her. He could pretend it had been a simple palace revolt, a soldier trying for power...in time, he might even believe it. But, he'd never completely trust her again. Finally, accepting the inevitability of the situation he nodded, looking up at Tel, "Will you send a courier in the morning?"

Silently, Telimedes nodded, taking refuge in his goblet of wine, to avoid the naked pain in his brother's eyes.

* * *

It was another week before Iolaus felt strong enough to travel. Jason had reluctantly left days before, having already been away from his own kingdom and duties for too long. However, before leaving, he'd extracted a promise from his friends that they would head to Corinth as soon as Iolaus was able to travel.

Evanteus grasped Iolaus' arm, as an equal, as they were about to leave. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I know your actions saved my life, cleared Tel of all suspicion and secured the kingdom. I'm sorry you were so badly hurt...." His voice trailed off, embarrassed, awkward.

Iolaus nodded as he returned the grip. But, he couldn't think of anything to say. They gazed at one another for a moment, understanding one another's thoughts, and then, with a sad smile, Iolaus broke the grip to turn away.

Evanteus said then, "You and Hercules are always welcome here. I hope you will return often."

Looking back at the King, Iolaus admired the man for his courage and his generous offer. But, he knew they'd not return unless there was a need...their presence could only remind the King of his loss. Hercules laid a gentle hand on the King's shoulder briefly as he passed by, he and Iolaus taking their leave of Telimedes as well. And then, finally, they were out of the fortress and on the road toward Corinth.

Taking their time, needing to spend at least one night on the road, they found a quiet, secluded clearing nestled in the trees, by a small lake. Iolaus fished for their dinner, while Hercules gathered the wood and started their fire.

As darkness fell, Herc looked across the flames at his best friend, reflecting that he hadn't told Iolaus everything of what had been said during that terrifying time in the cavern, when he'd thought Iolaus might die. It was time now, to say it again, to make sure his buddy heard and understood.

Iolaus felt his friend's tension, and watching Herc's face, he knew from long acquaintance that Hercules was working himself up to say something painful. Herc was right, Iolaus didn't remember the whole conversation, but fragments of it remained in his mind, and he recalled enough to have let his own misery slip away unmourned. "It's alright, Herc," he said quietly.

Startled, Hercules looked across the fire at him. "What's alright?" he asked, wondering what Iolaus was talking about.

"Whatever it is that's eating at you. Let it go. It's alright," Iolaus clarified.

Herc's head dropped, resting his chin on the arms he had crossed over his raised knees, as his eyes stared into the flames. Finally, he started to speak, his voice strained. "I never agreed with that fool magistrate that you couldn't be trusted. He lied about that. And he lied about when they were leaving for Malthius' camp, so that I didn't know they were gone until an hour after they'd left. I ran as fast as I could, knowing you'd be caught in the middle, but I knew I could never make it before the battle started, and I was terrified of what might happen to you." His eyes came up to Iolaus', and held them as he said, "I'd never abandon you like that, never. I'd never betray you that way."

Iolaus nodded, as he said quietly, "I know that now."

Herc nodded as he looked back into the fire, not yet finished. "None of this was ever your fault. The only thing you did wrong through any of it was blame yourself. You have never betrayed me...never." Hercules paused, his mouth dry. "I betrayed you. With Xena. I was wrong. I'm sorry...more sorry than you can know."

Iolaus shook his head once, his eyes compassionate as he said again, "I know...it's alright, Herc...let it go."

Hercules found the courage to look back into Iolaus' eyes. "You mean that?" he asked, needing to know.

His buddy nodded, "Yeah, I mean it. Herc...how much proof do you think I need? You came after me, to make sure I understood the truth. Despite your own pretty serious wounds, you came after me again when you knew I was in trouble. You held that damned mountain up, so that it wouldn't collapse and crush me...even though it had to hurt like hell, and broke your own wound wide open again. You stayed with me, and held onto me...when I was lost in the fever, I could still hear you, calling me back. So, yeah...it's alright. What's past is done. I know you'd never willingly, consciously, ever betray me. I know you'd never abandon me."

Iolaus paused a moment, gazing into the flames, and swallowed, knowing he had to continue, to clear it all away. "What happened with Xena was...only human. It's okay. To be completely honest, more than anything else, I was jealous, wishing that she'd have...well..." he sighed, looking back at Hercules, seeing the surprised understanding, the regret, and the compassion, before Herc's eyes dropped to the flames.

"It's time we both let it go," Iolaus repeated one more time, his voice firm, sure.

Herc's eyes flicked back up to his, searching and accepting, finally, that Iolaus really meant it, that it was over and they could move on. Wordlessly, he nodded, grateful that Iolaus had forgiven him, saddened that his buddy had been so hurt. Finally, through a tight throat, he murmured, "Thanks, buddy."

Needing to lighten the moment, to really put it behind them, Iolaus grinned at him, then, his eyes dancing. "Don't mention it. I mean it. Don't mention it, ever, again. It's done."

Hercules' head dropped again for a moment as he thought about it, and then his own brilliant eyes came back up to lock with Iolaus'. The demigod smiled slowly, and nodded silently. He'd not mention it. Ever. Again. Except for one small point, "Uh, I should tell you that a certain magistrate is expecting me to bring you back to town so that he can apologize to you."

Surprised, delighted by the idea, Iolaus laughed. He couldn't care less what that idiot magistrate thought, but it might be amusing to...nah, it wasn't worth it. Shaking his head, he grinned at Herc, then yawned and curled into his blanket, laying down beside the fire. "'Night, Herc."

"Good night, Iolaus," his best friend replied, his eyes shining with the relief and gratitude he felt at having his buddy back beside him, where he belonged.

Finis


End file.
